Your Bloody Friend Norrington
by xxxEmma3xxx
Summary: Takes place after the movie. A JackNorrington fic (but not slash). Norrington agrees to a surrender with unusual terms in order to save his ship... RR!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: *checks birth certificate* Nope, nope, still don't own them. I'm still just Emma.

  
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Jack regarded the ship through his spyglass. "She'll be no trouble at all - compared to us she's practically unarmed..." 

"Good." Ana Maria came to stand by his side, and leaned out over the ocean. "Let's board her, then. We need fresh food and we can take whatever they're-" 

"We're a long way from England, love," Jack reminded her, still squinting through his glass. "Likely as not they've got nothing much left by now. Although we may as well board and see, right?" He put away the spyglass and grinned. "Run up that British flag we got the other day." 

"Why bother?" As usual, Ana Maria failed to see the potential for fun. "They'll recognize the ship anyway. We might as well just hoist the jolly roger and fire on them." 

Jack gave in with a theatrical sigh, and at the sight of the skull and crossbones, the other ship panicked and sent up a white flag of truce. 

Ana Maria was disgusted. "That was _too_ easy. They call themselves _men_?" She spat on the deck, but Jack wasn't paying attention. 

He was smiling a private little smile as they approached their prey. Ana Maria wondered what the devil he was up to, but contained her curiosity, since it was a well-known fact that the fastest way to find out the captain's plan was not to ask. 

He allowed a few of the enemy's officers to come aboard the Pearl and negotiate. "Oh, goodness!" Jack exclaimed, eyes widening in badly-mimicked surprise. He put his hand over his heart as though to stave off an attack of shock. "If it isn't my old friend Commodore Norrington. What a treat...."   
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To Be Continued (later today). 

Well, I'm not very familiar with the customs of surrendering to pirates, so if I've made any mistakes, please correct me. I promise, the next chapter will be better - Jack and Norrington will get to interact. (Yay!) Review and tell me what you think.  



	2. ch2

"If it isn't my old friend Commodore Norrington," the pirate said, and beamed at him. But his smile didn't reach his eyes, and Norrington was beginning to get a bit nervous. "What a treat. And what might you be here to ask for?" Instead of projecting that same sunny, uncomplicated foolery of their last encounters, this time Jack seemed somehow...cold. As though there were a shrewd and calculating layer somewhere underneath all the fluff. Norrington didn't like it one bit, but he forced himself to ignore Jack's pecularities and press on. 

"We have no desire for a gunfight," he said firmly. "This trip we have women and children aboard and not much valuable cargo. We won't fire on you if you let us pass unmolested." He swallowed hard and almost couldn't manage it. "We…we ask you to let us go in peace." 

Norrington wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he hid his humiliation very well. He knew it was obvious to everyone just how much this hurt, how positively _awful_ it was to have to beg mercy of a pirate. And of course he knew Jack would capitalize, drawing out the moment as long as was humanly possible. 

The pirate captain leaned over the railing, out towards the sea, and made a big show of assessing the enemy vessel. "She doesn't look like much," he called over his shoulder. "We could sink her without much trouble, even if you _were_ to fire on us." 

"We have _women and children_ aboard, Jack Sparrow – don't you dare!" snarled Norrington, his authoritative tone spoiled by a note of panic. 

Jack still didn't face him. "What good are your women and children to me, mate?" he asked quite seriously. "I don't suppose you'll offer us a few in exchange for safe passage? Children or no, you'll do like every other ship: pay us or sink." 

Elbowing through Jack's honor guard to stand right behind him, Norrington hissed, "I always knew there was more to you than that idiocy you're always projecting…and I refuse to believe there's not more than _this_. I have _told_ you, we have no valuable cargo! I swear it. So what do you-" He broke off, realizing that his pleas were having no effect whatsoever. "What's _happened_ to you?" 

"Tell you what, mate," Jack suggested, finally turning around. He _sounded_ more dangerous, but at least a spark of mischief had returned to his eyes. "You may not have much treasure on your ship, but you _have_ got one thing that I really want. If you give it to me, I swear we'll let your ship and the rest of its contents go without a fight. Deal?" 

Behind them, Jack's crew shot confused looks at one another. How the devil could Jack know what was on that ship? And did he really intend to let it go on the mere _word_ of this Englishman that it wasn't worth sacking? 

"Before I agree I shall need to know what is this _thing_ you're so keen to take with you," Norrington said through clenched teeth. 

If looks could kill Jack would have been incinerated on the spot. "What do I want?" he slurred, seeming surprised that it should take the commodore so long to work out the answer. "You." 

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TBC 

I've got some great stuff planned.... Review and tell me what you think! 


	3. ch3

Responses to reviews:

To **Jehan's** Muse**:  I agree that the chemistry between Jack and Norrington is fascinating.  I am resolutely refusing to slash them, though, at least this time around.  (This is my kiddie-friendly penname.)**

To **EdnaTod**:  Here ya go! An update.  Not _too much of a cliffhanger here…_

To **everybody else**:  Review, willya?  Like it so far?  Any suggestions?  C'mon, help me out here.  Feed the muses.

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"Pardon me?"

"You heard me, Commodore.  You have thirty seconds to decide."

Norrintgon inhaled shakily.  "I don't understand.  My life for the ship?" he asked.

"No," Jack reassured him with a little laugh.  "Your life?  Not at all.  Only your company for awhile.  Depending on how things go, you may be able to rejoin the fair Mrs. Commodore after all...oh... I'm sorry – I don't see a ring…Elizabeth didn't...?"

"You know very well that she did not," Norrington said through clenched teeth.  "And if it's ransom you're proposing, I tell you straight away that I'm worth very little to anyone-"

"You're worth a ship and her cargo, mate, if you talk to the right people," Jack corrected, in his most charming manner.  "Like me."

The Commodore's sense of duty of course made it impossible for him to refuse the offer.  "You mean that if I put myself at your mercy, my lieutenants will be permitted to return to the ship and the ship will be permitted to sail away without further harassment?  Is that it, Sparrow?"

"_Captain_ Sparrow, and yes, it is."  Jack held out his hand.  "Do we have an accord?"

Norrington eyed Jack's hand as though it were something scraped off the bottom of a ship.  _Bad enough to have to negotiate with pirates,_ his grimace said plainly, _but must I now **touch** one, too_?

At last he submitted to the handshake.  "We do."  He turned to his men and barked, "Gilette!"

By now the two had served together so long that he didn't even need to continue.  "Yes, sir," Gilette said.  He cocked his head.  "Sir, do you..."

"No, I do _not_," Norrington said emphatically.  "If I cannot manage alone versus a crew of this riffraff, I am of precious little use to His Majesty's navy anyway.  I want you to continue on as usual without me, is that clear?"  He stared hard at his favorite subordinate, wishing the agonized look would fade from the poor boy's pasty face.  "Either I won't need to be saved, or I am not worth saving.  Tell the governor the same thing when you make your report."

Gilette saluted smartly and Norrington turned his back.  He didn't want to see his men board their ship and sail away to safety and certainty while he was left on this floating _hellhole…  He just barely resisted the temptation to leap overboard, and gripped the railing so hard his hands were hurting.  "What in God's name have I done?"_

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TBC

I'd really like to know what everybody thinks so far.  A bit of a teaser for next chapter:  Jack tries to get Norrington into pirate clothes, and fails miserably.  Review review review!  

And a minor question: the spelling of Gilette's name.  Is that right?  I just kind of made it up.


	4. ch4

A/N: Apologies for taking so long getting this chapter out. I'm at camp now where there are a couple communal email computers for like a hundred of us, so it's kind of hard for me to get time to update, but I did it (yay!) So please review and tell me what you think so far.   
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The worst part of the whole arrangement, Norrington reflected morbidly, was that he really _didn't_ expect to need saving. He didn't think Sparrow would do worse than taunt him and drop him off on some far-away barbaric island where it would be difficult and undignified - but not impossible - to find a way home. 

Sparrow was, after all, a terrible pirate. He was a first-rate comedian and a wonderful actor, projecting mental deficiency as easily as stone-hearted ruthlessness, but he'd never kill a prisoner in cold blood. "A _terrible_ pirate," he echoed his thoughts aloud. 

"That bad, eh?" 

Norrington whirled around. There stood the captain in all his flamboyancy, leaning on his cutlass like a walking stick and smiling so widely that his gold teeth gleamed in the last of the sunlight. "Captain Sparrow, would you mind telling me why?" 

Jack came to stand by his side. His expression, always difficult to analyze, became even _more_ enigmatic in profile, and Norrington soon gave up trying to read him. "You first. You had a few cannons. Why surrender to a ship that might well refuse you quarter?" 

"Don't insult my intelligence," Norrington said irritably. "I recognized the Pearl and I recognized you. Do you think I would have run up the white flag for any other?" 

"Thought so. You know me - or think you do, anyway." Jack nudged him with his elbow. "There you have it, then. That's your reason. I kept you here because I know _you_, too, and I think you'll make a nice addition to me ship." He paused. "Rather like our figurehead. Elaborately decorated, stiff as a board, covered in barnacles...well, you're not covered in barnacles. But you get the idea." 

"Yes, I'm afraid I do." Norrington set his face resolutely. "You'll never turn me, you know." 

"Of course, of course, you fly straight as a bloody arrow. Well, we'll soon see about that, won't we? Eat dinner with me," he added after a moment, "And then I'll find you something a little more comfortable to wear." 

"I would rather go naked than let you dress me in filthy pirate's rags." 

By now the crew was all gathered around, watching, and Jack shrugged. "All right, then. Off with your clothes." Norrington only stared in horror, and Jack elaborated. "Take off your clothes now, or I'll have ye keel-hauled." 

"Enough is _enough_!" The prisoner drew his sword and regarded Jack levelly. "Kill me if you wish or set me free or do whatever else you please but I will _not_ be mocked in this scandalous manner! On your guard." 

The crew looked uneasy. They half-expected Jack to just shoot the prisoner where he stood - after all, that's what one did when one's prisoner pulled a weapon - but Jack actually seemed _pleased_. "Very well." He slipped out of his coat and hat. "I'll fight you in my very best _pirate's rags_ and you can wear your bloody great Navy uniform. If you can still beat me I'll let you wear it till Judgment day, but if you lose...you'll take it off here and now and I won't hear another word of argument, savvy?" 

He dragged his blade slowly along Norrington's and dropped into a low _en guard_. "Whenever you're ready, mate." 

Norrington had obviously been well-trained in traditional sword fighting. Jack fought him up and down the deck slowly, in a thinly-disguised effort to learn exactly what damage he would be capable of in an actual battle. For awhile they felt out each other's strengths, neither working up to a frenzy. Norrington hoped people would think he was only using such a basic and relaxed style in order to match Jack's, but the truth was that he couldn't do very much else without taking off his coat. 

One person who wasn't fooled was Jack. Once he saw for certain how constricting his opponent's uniform actually was, he started to press hard on the attack, leaping and ducking and cutting with such athleticism and brutality that Norrington couldn't possibly keep up. He fought circles around the Commodore and eventually stepped up and locked their blades between them. He held Norrington's gaze while they fought for blade control, then stomped on his foot as a total surprise move. Norrington lost his footing for the briefest second and Jack was on top of him, knocking his blade aside and driving something hard into his stomach. 

_The hilt_, Norrington realized finally, from the ground. _He winded me with the bloody **hilt** of his sword_. "You're supposed to hit with the _pointy_ end," he stated, looking up over the cutlass to glare at its owner. 

Jack laughed, digging the tip a little harder into Norrington's windpipe. "Sorry, mate. I must have missed that lesson at fencing school." He backed away and let the Commodore stand. "And now, I believe we had an agreement...although, you _did_ fight well," he mused aloud. "So, I won't make you take off _all_ your clothes..." 

He left the Commodore standing there in front of the whole crew, beet-red and almost crying with humiliation, wearing nothing but his hat.   
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TBC.   
Like I said, it's difficult to update here, but I have more a few more chapters on disk that only need uploading… I'll do my best to get them out ASAP. Let me know if you're enjoying this, and keep making it worth the effort! 


	5. ch5

A/N: Thanks to all who have reivewed. Before I forget again, I'd like to mention that this story came about as a result of my short story "One Day's Head Start," which is a much different and sadder post-movie scenario. Take a quick look at it if you have time, and tell me what you think. Personally, I like the goofy version better. And this story is, despite my best efforts to be serious, turning out to be rather goofy...   
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The knock came half an hour later. Impressed that his prisoner had held out so long, Jack opened the door nevertheless prepared to torment him as best he could. "Reconsidered?" he asked, holding out some pirate clothing. 

"No," Norrington answered, eyeing the rags with total indifference. "Just wondering whether I might have something to eat." 

Jack focused on the hat, worrying that he might lose control and start laughing hysterically if he looked down any further than that. "Certainly. Eat with the crew. That is," he added after a moment, "If Ana Maria doesn't mind." 

"She's already told me she's not particular about that sort of thing," Norrington answered with a straight face. Jack stiffened. _Touche_. Although the idea of fidelity in a pirate was laughable, he'd always entertained at least a _hope_ that Ana Maria wouldn't carry on behind his back. 

Comments like _that_, though, made him believe otherwise. 

But then, he noticed the wicked glint in Norrington's eyes and relaxed. "Put these on, you bloody fool," he said roughly, trying not to look amused. "It looks fine, nothing ridiculous." 

"Clearly our definitions of 'ridiculous' differ, Captain Sparrow. Differ greatly." But he put on the outfit without further protest. 

Once he was dressed, stared at Jack's outstretched hand, confused. "What now?" 

"The hat," Jack explained, gesturing for it again. "You still look like a Commodore in his stable-boy's clothing." 

Norrington glanced up reflexively as though he could see for himself. "Oh. No, I'm afraid I...here. You can have the wig if you wish, but I _will_ wear this hat." 

"Fine." He handed over the wig and then ran his hands through his hair. It barely fell past his ears. He looked much younger without the uniform and much more relaxed, and Jack couldn't help teasing him a bit. He laid the back of his hand against Norrington's cheek as though checking for fever and said, "Well now, isn't that interesting..." 

His prisoner pushed the hand off, but rose to the bait. "Isn't _what_ interesting?" 

"You're thawing out already." 

Norrington hissed. "I was _not_ cold, frozen, whatever you're implying," he snapped. 

"Frigid, actually. But have it your way," Jack said easily. "All I'm saying is, although you _do_ need a bit of dirt an' muck about you, mate, you're coming along nicely." 

The Commodore was disturbed to feel himself react to the approval in Jack's smile.   
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TBC   
As usual, please review! 


	6. ch6

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. You guys are great. I have a lengthy note I intended to post here answering the people who worried that we're heading in a slashy direction (we're not), but due to all the people staring over my shoulder and glaring I'd better hurry and I'll get that out next chapter instead. I'm going to answer reviews as soon as I get a decent amount of time on here one morning.   
I only have wordpad here with no spell check or typofixing function so if I make mistakes and don't catch them, point them out. Thanks.   
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Several days later, Norrington sat on the floor in the brig, pants soaked completely through, with his arms crossed over his chest. He had been in there since Thursday evening, without furniture since Friday morning, and without food since Friday night. His best estimate was that it was now sometime in the late afternoon on Saturday, but then again he couldn't be sure. 

There didn't seem to be bells or regular watches or even anything resembling a schedule on board. But that shouldn't be surprising. After all, this was a pirate ship, and she was captained by the most unpredictable- 

His thoughts were interrupted by someone clomping down the stairs. _Speak of the devil,_ he thought. 

Jack was holding an enourmous chicken leg and eating it noisily. "'Ello," he said around a mouthful of food. 

It would be stupid to pretend that he wasn't hungry, cold, sore, and cross. There was a time and a place for stoicism, and it wasn't now. "Is that for me?" 

Jack had to swallow before answering. "Are you ready to turn pirate?" He made a big show of licking his lips. 

Norrington sighed and re-crossed his arms. "Mr. Sparrow," he began haughtily. 

"-Captain," Jack corrected. "Here." He reached through the bars and tossed the chicken into Norrington's lap. 

He managed not to tear into it immediately. "Captain?" he echoed. "You are the _worst_ pirate captain in the history of piracy. You don't even know how to go about starving a prisoner." 

Jack leaned against the wall and watched as Norrington started eating. "I'm not starving a prisoner, I'm starving a future crew member. Bit of a difference." 

Norrington shook his head. "Give up." 

Jack didn't say, "Never" or "You know me better than that" or "Not when I'm so close," but Norrington heard it all anyway. 

At last Jack spoke. "To be perfectly honest, we need you. How many men do you think it takes to crew a ship this size?" 

"More than you've got, I know," Norrington admitted. "But that is hardly my concern." 

"It's only the Pearl's reputation - and her cannons, I suppose - that keeps these waters from being positively _overrun_ with baddies who only take up piracy because they can't control their tempers long enough for anything else," Jack reminded him. "Besides, you're here anyway - you might as well. We won't tell anybody," he wheedled. "What have you got to lose? Come on, mate, you're not giving the idea a fair shot." 

"That's not true," Norrington said seriously. "I've given it some thought, I really have. I know that despite everything you're a good man at heart and I wouldn't feel wrong signing on with you..." But then his voice changed and he sounded as if he were parroting a lesson he'd repeated every day since childhood. "Except that you are, in fact, a pirate. You commit piracy. You are an enemy of law and order and the King's navy and it is my duty to bring you to justice." He frowned. "Come to think of it, if we are attacked I could wind up fighting against my own men. Absolutely not." 

"Then we'll avoid the Navy ships til you're got rid of," Jack offered. "Please? Only until we recruit a few more new ones. Please?" 

Norrington stood slowly, wincing over his cramped muscles and hoping Jack didn't see. "I want dry clothes," he said. "And I want free run of the ship. I promise I won't try to escape. I need some time to think about it, and I'll give you my answer tomorrow." 

"As an added bonus," Jack said as he reached for his keys, "If you sign on with us we'll give you your wig back. Or, better yet, we'll steal you a new one, one of those big fancy contraptions the ladies wear-" 

Instead of answering, Norrington stamped his foot to splash Jack with seawater from the puddle that covered the floor. Jack looked surprised. 

"-Or not, if you prefer."   
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TBC...  



	7. ch7

A quick note/explanation/warning:

First, the warning. Next chapter may offend those who are very easily offended by innuendo. 

Now, the explanation for Jack's behavior, since he _is_ acting kind of flirty and I _did_ say this story wasn't going to be slash: As kandra mentioned in a review, what's tough about this fic is that it's Jack who's in control of Norrington's situation and not vice versa. Norrington was _born_ to be in control, and I'm sure it's hard for him to have to depend on the will of an outlaw. So hard, in fact, that his behavior is difficult to predict, which makes it difficult to keep him in character. But I'm trying. 

I think Jack is very good at making people uncomfortable and I think he does it on purpose to keep them off-balance. Like his goofy mannerisms, his "flirting" (for lack of a better word) is a distraction that makes it impossible for other people to focus 100% on the situation at hand, giving Jack a clear strategical advantage. Think back to the end of the movie, where he runs around making comments about rooting for Norrington and a very special place grammatically. That had a _purpose_ - if he had just rushed for the edge to jump over without creating some kind of disturbance first, they might have thought to stop him. For the same reason, I think in my story Jack would go out of his way to be as outrageous, unpredictable, and indecorous as possible, as a constant reminder to Norrington who's in charge and who is in waaay over his head. As a soldier Norrington is probably prepared to withstand threats, bribery, or torture...but how could he have planned to defend himself against flirting? And how is a prisoner supposed to hatch any anti-Jack plots while he's got so many other things on his mind (like being butt naked in front of everybody)? Confused and embarrassed people are much easier to manipulate, as I'm sure Jack knows.   
Enjoy.   
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The only people on deck were Jack and Ana Maria, who stood together watching the sun set. "This place is like a ghost ship," Norrington observed. "Where is everyone?" 

The pirates exchanged glances. "Yes, Captain Sparrow, that's a good question." Ana Maria cocked her head with fake innocence. "Where _are_ they?" 

"It's an attitude like that that makes women unwelcome on board," Jack answered, then turned to Norrington to explain. "We've been at sea a good long while, mate, and it's quiet out, nothing to do... so they're all below deck playing hoist-the-colours." He sounded almost apologetic. 

Norrington's brow furrowed. "Hoist the colours?" he asked, glancing up at the mast. How the devil did one hoist the flag from below deck? 

Jack tried again. "It's a contest," he said more quietly. "You know, to see who can fire the cannon first...?" 

"Fire the cannon?" Now even more thoroughly confused, Norrington gave up staring at the mast for answers. "At what? There's nothing to fire at." 

"Oh, come _on_," Jack sighed in exasperation. "Do I have to demonstrate?" He broke eye contact and shifted his gaze quite deliberately to rest below Norrington's beltline. 

The Commodore's first thought, illogical as it was, was that there was a spot on his clothes. He looked down at the pirate rags he was wearing, then back at Jack, and then down again, until he finally registered exactly _what_ the pirate was staring at. 

And _then_ he knew what the men were off doing. 

He stood absolutely still and closed his eyes and said a prayer. Ineffective. He tried to mentally recite some poetry, arithmetic tables, _anything_ to distract him from the horrific idea that they... Gibbs...that tongueless man... (his parrot?)... 

_Do something!_ his brain screamed. _Say something, do something, anything, anything..._

"Above that sort of thing yourself, Sparrow?" he asked haughtily. Not much better, but it was the first thing he'd thought of and it would have to do. 

Jack laughed but Ana Maria was quick to silence him. 

"Ahem. If you make even _one_ joke about ports or harbors, you can bloody well sleep in the crow's nest because you are _not_ sharing the cabin with me." She turned and headed for their room. 

"If that's not an invitation, I don't know what is," Jack muttered. "Can't pass that up, mate. Ta." He followed her, leaving Norrington alone on deck. 

As a sailor, Norrington couldn't stomach the sight of a ship totally unmanned. "I'll take the watch, then," he said aloud, speaking resignedly into thin air. He glanced up at the wheel and sighed. "We could be sailing to bloody Africa for all anybody on this ship knows or cares," he muttered irritably, and climbed the stairs.   
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"Are you _sure_ that was a good idea?" Ana Maria hissed as soon as they were alone. 

Jack had already glued his face to the tiny crack between the door and its frame, trying to see what was happening outside. "I'm sure it'll work. _That_ was the hard part - getting him calm and alone on deck. He believed me, so he won't be coming in here or going below anytime soon. We've got him trapped. The rest is easy." 

"Oh, yes," she agreed sarcastically. "Now all we have to do is sit back and wait for him to spontaneously turn pirate. That's very easy." 

"Ana Maria. My darling. Light of my life, wind in my sails. Even as we speak he is climbing the stairs," Jack whispered over his shoulder. "He won't be able to resist standing at the wheel just for a moment. No man could. And once he does, you mark my words, he'll fall in love with this ship. If he hasn't already. Just trust me." 

She sighed. "I do," she admitted. "I must be a fool." 

Jack turned to smile at her but didn't argue. "Well, there's nothing more we can do, is there?" she asked. "It's all up to him now." 

"No," Jack corrected, "It's all up to the _Pearl._" And then he shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head and then they didn't talk anymore. 

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TBC. 

And I hope that wasn't too much for your little virgin eardrums (which should, due to the rating, be 13-year-old eardrums anyhow).   
And see? There will _not_ be slash in this story. I am a firm (temporary but firm) Jack/Ana Maria shipper, so for this story at least, she is the _only_ person with whom he will be hooking up.   
Leave me a review. What do you like so far? What do you think should happen? Come on, come on - I'm all ears.  



	8. ch8

A/N:  Okay, I'm back at college now.  So there is now plenty of time for me to update.  After today the chapters are going to get a bit longer.  But please review!  Seriously, I want to know this story is being read.

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When Jack came outside early next morning, the ship was alive with movement.  Everybody was up and about and doing his part...

Except for that one man who stood gripping the railing tightly and staring out at the sea....

Jack crept up and slapped him on the back jovially.  "Good morning, Commodore."

Norrington shut his eyes.  "It _was_ a good morning..."

Jack pretended to feel welcome.  "Did a lot of thinking last night, eh?"

In no mood for light banter, Norrington cut straight to the issue.  "Do you realize that you're asking me to give up my whole life - everything I've ever worked for...?"

"Only if you get caught," Jack argued, becoming more animated and excited by the second.  "Which, after all, is half the fun, isn't it?"

"Fun?  Fun to risk hanging?"

Jack lowered his voice.  "In the very unlikely event that we are arrested, I will take the blame for you and say I forced you into it all at swordpoint."

"You know I can't allow that," Norrington snapped.  "In the _very _unlikely event that I _do_ join you, I will accept the full consequences of my decision."

"We're not asking you to be a pirate, mate.  Only a sailor, only for a little.  The sooner you help us, the sooner we can take you home, savvy?"  He elbowed him.  "Think about it.  Even leaving aside the question of treasure, there's the sun and wind and the open sea...and no responsibilities at all.  It would be fun."

"Stop it!"  Norrington shrugged out of all physical contact.  "How much longer must I endure this?  By my calculations you've only got thirty-six more days and nights, and then you've got to give up and let me go home."

Never slow on the uptake, Jack spun around and spread his hands innocently.  "Do you _see_ a forked tail?  Come on, mate - if you were drowning and I told you to take my hand, would you call _that_ temptation as well?  Or common sense?  Be reasonable."

Jack dimly sensed that the Biblical reference had been a test, and that he had passed.  He might not have much formal education, but he was neither an imbecile nor a heathen, and that apparently mattered deeply to the Commodore.  Norrington nodded.  "Very well: I won't help you rob others and I won't kill anyone.  I _will_ help sail this ship - _only_ sail her - and _only_ until you can find some real pirates to take my place.  In return, you will then take me home.  _Without_ embarrassing me in front of all of Port Royal," he added.

"How about _half _of Port Royal?"

"Mr. Sparrow!"

"_Captain _Sparrow_, _if you don't mind.  _Captain_."

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TBC.  


	9. ch9

Disclaimer: not mine.

Plea for reviews: write 'em!  Or I'll get Jack shot next chapter, I swear it.

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Without a doubt, Jack intended to eventually nudge his new crew member into becoming a full-fledged buccaneer, but for now he was careful to only give orders that were not too objectionable.

First, he decided to make him write a letter.  They went to Jack's cabin and Norrington seated himself at the table with some paper and a pen.  "All right.  Take this down."  Jack paused and removed his hat theatrically.  "Dear Elizabeth.  No!  _My Dearest __Elizabeth__,_" he revised.

Norrington sighed and selected a second sheet of paper.  "My _Dearest_ Elizabeth," he echoed as he wrote.  

"It is with greatest pleasure that I avail meself of the honour of addressing this letter to you_…_"  He scratched his head.  "No, wait – she'll never believe that was me, will she?  Here – start again.  My dearest Elizabeth…"   

"-One moment," the former Commodore interrupted, annoyed beyond measure.  He got yet another fresh sheet and began again.  "All right – go on."

"My dearest Elizabeth.  Greetings from the high seas."  He paused.  "I wonder, how are things with you and precious William?"

"_Precious?_" Norrington repeated skeptically as he wrote.

"No…you're right, that's a bit much.  Try, _with you and your sweet Will Turner_.  That has a nicer ring, doesn't it?"  Jack smiled, appearing totally unaware that Norrington was very close to throwing the inkwell at him.

"Yes, it does.  Except that we are now on our last sheet of paper."

"Ah.  Well, then, just cross it out.  I'm not particular."

Certain now that Jack was perfectly capable of writing himself, and only continuing this farce for its irritant value, Norrington tried not to let himself be annoyed.  He took a deep breath and made the changes Jack had suggested.

The letter progressed in a similarly aggravating fashion all the way to the signature line, which Jack insisted read:  "Yours eternally, Captain Jack Sparrow."

"First of all, Captain, that's not appropriate for you to say to a married woman.  Second, you're a pirate-"

"I hadn't forgotten."

"-And if the letter is found," Norrington continued loudly over the interruption, "It will mean trouble for her.  Can't you just sign it 'Jack'?  It's what she called you anyway."

Jack detected a tiny trace of bitterness in those last words, so he patted his scribe consolingly on the shoulder, took the quill from him, and penned "Yours eternally, Captain Jack Sparrow" himself to sidestep further argument.

Still, he couldn't resist saying, "Now add a postscript.  We've forgotten something."

Norrington humored him.  When Jack's desire to perform asserted itself, regardless of the lack of audience, it had to be indulged.  "And what have we forgotten?" he asked sweetly, hoping that it would be enough to forestall any behavior even more erratic.

"Take this down.  Postscript:  We still have your bloody friend Norrington.  He's doing well…"

"I will not refer to myself as _your bloody friend Norrington_.  We still have _Commodore_ Norrington, I'll write."

"You'll write no such thing."  Jack sat on the desk and, still smiling, drew his pistol.  "_We still have your bloody friend Norrington_.  Write it, I'm warning you."

He did not appear to be joking.  As a matter of fact, he appeared to be insane, but Norrington took a chance anyway.  "_No_.  I'll write the postscript with _Commodore_ in it, or not at all."

Jack stood up, turned away, and abruptly raised his voice.  "YOU'LL WRITE WHAT I SAID!  _YOUR.__ BLOODY.  FRIEND.  NORRINGTON!"_  

Norrington tried not to be intimidated.  _If Sparrow were honestly angry he'd stare me down,_ he thought.  _He's turning away so I don't see him laughing_… _I hope_.  Anyway, a line had to be drawn someplace.  He rose and tried without success to match Jack's yelling.  "I will NOT be called anybody's bloody friend anything!"

"YOU WILL!  _YOU ARE YOUR BLOODY FRIEND NORRINGTON!  _THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE AND THAT'S WHAT YOU'LL WRITE!"

"I AM NOT!" Hardly able to believe that he had been reduced to this childish of an argument, Norrington gave in to the desire to pound his fist on the desk.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  "AND I WILL NOT!"

They were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.  Jack stormed over to it, scowling ferociously, and yanked it open.  "What?"

It was Ana Maria.  "Is something wrong?  We can hear you all the way-"

A nasty smile spread over Jack's face.  "Nothing's wrong, except that our bloody friend Norrington wishes to repudiate his name.  And I won't allow it.  _That_ is his name and that's what we'll call him.  Is that clear, my bloody friend?" he added, turning to Norrington and failing miserably to look stern.

Norrington looked furious but didn't say anything further, so Jack continued.  "What kind of name is _Commodore Norrington _for a pirate, anyway?"  he made a face.  "Good.  Now back to work.  Write: Your bloody friend Norrington is doing rather well.  I think your bloody friend Norrington and I are going to get along splendidly.  As a matter of fact, it was actually your bloody friend Norrington who-"

Realizing that Jack intended to fit in as many _your bloody friend's as possible, Norrington interrupted through clenched teeth, "-who pointed out that we will soon run out of ink, Captain."_

"Ah.  Fine – then we'll cut the trimmings."  Norrington knew enough by now not to think Jack was giving up the game, though.  "Write: as a matter of fact, it was actually Y.B.F. Norrington who-"

Norrington just shut his mouth and continued writing.  By the end of the letter, he had been reduced to "YBFN", but he supposed the senseless collection of letters was slightly preferable to the ridiculous title in its entirety.  _Anyway, it'll all blow over in a couple of days,_ he told himself comfortingly.

But he was not comforted.

****************************************

TBC.

Remember, Jack's life is in _your hands.  Review for me, or something _bad_ will happen to him.  Pathetic, isn't it, the lengths I will stoop to to get feedback…_

(Despite appearances, this chapter _was slightly important to the overall plot.)_


	10. ch10

Well!  I actually _did intend to get Jack shot this chapter, and then blame it on you guys, but I got so many responses from last time that I just can't do it in good conscience.  I suppose I won't make a running threat to his health, but I'll at least offer a bit of incentive: the more you encourage me, the quicker I write.  Really!  I should be reading Plato for school, but this is just _so_ much better…_

Anyway, a few responses to reviews:

**To Emiri-chan**:  if you like angst, check out my other story One Day's Head Start, and see Jack bite the big one.  (Sorry, Jack!)

**To the several who giggled over "hoist-the-colours":**  There are a whole bunch of nautical/piratical phrases that just sound _wrong_ when viewed through a pervert-lens like the one I am (un)fortunate enough to possess.  I may find an occasion to use others in some later chapters.

**To everyone who begged me not to hurt Jack:**  I promise he won't die.  I think that's about all I can promise conclusively, though…

**To starlance and Serendipity Harley Quinn :  **Yup, I'm going to make the chapters longer from here on out.

**To Elske**:  Your beloved Gilette will be protected from cheesiness in my story.  I actually _do think interesting stuff could be written about him, but I'm not sure it'll fit in here.  But don't worry, I won't write anything super-cheezy about him…I'm sure you've seen what's already out there *shudder*._

*******************************

*******************************

A week later, it had still not blown over.

The crew now referred to Norrington exclusively by his ridiculous sobriquet.  They called him Bloody to his face, and in conversation he was usually "Jack's bloody friend."  He still nursed a vague hope that he might one day get his name back, but he was rapidly learning to answer to "Hey, there, Bloody," without resentment.  There was no sense in running one's head into a brick wall, was there?

He had yet to get used to the amount of leisure time involved in the life of a pirate.  Until now he had never questioned the necessity for watches and the high level of maintenance that kept sailors so busy aboard ordinary ships, but he was beginning to warm up to the idea that he could sprawl on deck and nap in the sun, or climb the rigging for the sheer joy of feeling the wind try to toss him into the sea.  What's more, nobody would look at him strangely either way.  It was none of _their_ business how he spent his time.

_They_ (including Ana Maria, a fact which never ceased to amaze and embarrass him) seemed to prefer drinking to thinking, but that suited him even better.  He could go aloft while the rest of the crew sang unintelligibly or told wildly inaccurate stories, and just _think.  In the mornings, while they fought hangovers and performed half-hearted repair work, he could do his share quickly (at least, what he estimated his share to be – there was of course no set division of labor) and then have time to explore the ship or, if he was feeling really ambitious, talk to Jack._

He told himself that he was only doing it to get new ideas for when he returned to his old position as Commodore.

*******************************

"Oy!  Bloody!  Are you busy?"

Norrington shook his head.  He was sitting in the shade of a keg, arms wrapped around his knees, watching the men try to impart seduction tips to the parrot.

Jack came and sat on the keg, dangling his legs down on either side of his bloody friend, and said, "The crew's been complaining about you."

"What?"  Norrington craned his neck to look up, but then, on finding himself face-to-crotch with his captain, scooted away and sat against the mast instead.  "What have I done wrong?"

"Wrong?  Nothing," Jack assured him, unable to suppress a smile at the lost-little-boy tone Norrington had unknowingly adopted.  "They just expected you to be a bit more social.  They think you feel like an outsider."

Norrington drew himself up proudly and stopped slouching.  "I _am an outsider.  I don't wish to be-"_

"Come off it, Bloody, we're not blind.  You love it here."

Norrington shrugged.  "It's not as bad as it might be," he allowed.  "Still, I look forward to the day when I'll be sent back to where I belong."

"You don't belong in a wig any more than I do."

At the idea of Jack in a wig, Norrington had to crack a smile, but then decided to get aggressive in order to point the conversation away from himself.  "And you?  Haven't you given any thought yourself to giving up piracy?  You can't live this way forever.  What will you do afterwards?"

"Afterwards?"  Jack looked surprised.  "There _is_ no afterwards."  He smiled.  "Although, I do intend to be rich enough – soon – that piracy is no longer a financial necessity."

Norrington didn't like the tone one bit.  "I told you, I'll have no part in any plans to-"

"Relax."  Jack waved him to silence.  "I didn't say I'd do it immediately, and anyway, it's nothing you'd object to."

They were interrupted by a shout from Ana Maria, who was acting as lookout.  "Captain Sparrow!  Sails!"

Jack got to his feet, nodding to show that he had heard, and stretched unconcernedly.  "I'm coming, love," he called back.

The smile he shot in her direction made Norrington wonder.  "No – really.  Have you ever even _considered a respectable life, Sparrow?  A job, a home…marriage?"_

"Marriage?"  Jack's confusion seemed perfectly genuine.  "You're joking."

Jack crossed the ship to take the spyglass from Ana Maria, with some lewd comment that got him slapped for the fourth time that day.  Norrington _hadn't been joking, but when he saw that, he decided he might as well have been._

******************************************

It was an enticingly helpless little merchant ship, pocket-change compared to the sort of thing the Pearl _really_ could rob, but Jack decided to chase her anyway.

Norrington, of course, had a lot to say about that, but Jack shut him up quickly.  "Nobody's asking you to help out, mate.  You can go below, all right?  You don't even have to watch."  He turned to the crew and began barking orders, not even bothering to watch Norrington leave the deck.

The fight was so easy it was practically no fight at all.  All they needed was a bit of cannon fire, and the merchant ship made only token resistance before surrendering.  Jack stepped aboard, decked out in his best pirate regalia, looking as fierce as he knew how, and scanned the prisoners briefly.  They were all quaking in terror, and it was just _too_ tempting to resist.

"Someone go fetch our very bloody friend," Jack growled in the perfect stillness.  One of the captured sailors closed his eyes and swallowed, and Jack had the distinct impression the man was trying hard not to throw up.

Gibbs crossed back to the Pearl and returned a moment later with Norrington in tow.  Jack made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder at them, and found himself absolutely riveted by what he saw.

Norrington suddenly looked every inch a pirate.  _How did I not notice that before, Jack wondered.  He was barefoot to have better traction on the slippery decks.  His pants, cut off raggedly at the knee, were held by a ratty belt that looked beautifully incongruous with the elegant sword that hung from it.  He had finally given up tucking his shirt in, and it hung loose and open to reveal skin that had clearly been getting some much-needed sunlight in recent days.  His hair was a mess, and his beloved Navy hat was jammed lopsidedly on his head.  Most importantly, he had lost the military stiffness and dignity he had initially taken such pains to preserve.  For the first time, he looked sulky and rebellious, like a proper pirate should._

"You said I wouldn't have to-"  he complained, then gasped, "_Jack!"  One of the prisoners had drawn a weapon while Jack's back was turned.  Norrington's hand flew to his pistol and he fired without hesitation, even before Jack had time to whirl around and see what the trouble was._

Cursing himself for his moment of thoughtlessness, Jack took in the situation quickly.  His crew was only now registering the danger he'd been in.  A quick glance told him that the writhing, screaming prisoner no longer posed much of a threat, and so he turned to see how his rescuer was holding up.

Norrington had paled a bit but spoke up briskly enough.  "That shot was not meant to kill," he called out over the wailing, sounding as crisp and clear as when he'd ruled a Navy ship.  He stuck the spent pistol in his belt, drew another, and cocked it.  "The next one will be."

"And that's only if you're lucky," Jack amended, shooting a wolfish smile in the prisoners' direction.  Quite aware (and annoyed) that Norrington had stolen the show this time, he signaled to his crew to begin looting.

In under half an hour, the ship was relieved of everything of value and the pirates were ready to depart.  Jack studied the wounded prisoner, who still lay on the ground whimpering.  "How much ransom d'you think you're worth, son?" he asked cheerfully.

The sailor's eyes widened in terror and he passed out.

********************************

Back on the Pearl, Norrington was snapping and snarling like a puppy.  "Look at this!  Now we have a _prisoner.  And a dying one at that.  He's worth nothing.  What do you propose we-"_

"We had no choice and you know it," Jack said wearily.  "We took their medicine chest and most of their food.  If we'd left him there he'd never have made it back to port."

"You're a pirate.  Killing innocent people is your job.  Why make an exception now when it's only going to cause us trouble?"

"Well, for one thing, we know they'll deliver my letter," Jack reminded him.  "I told them we'd torture him to death if they don't."

Norrington stared skywards, praying for patience.  "No, you told them _I_ would torture him to death if they don't.  I'm just lucky no one recognized me."  He scowled.  "_And_ you called me Bloody in front of everyone!  _And_ I shot someone."

"Yes, I know.  Thanks, by the way – he'd have killed me."

"I should have let him.  I can't believe I _shot_ someone.  God help me, I _shot an innocent sailor…"_

"Not quite innocent, mate – he was going to shoot me in the back.  You really scared them all, you know.  You'll have a reputation after today."

"I don't _want_ a reputation," Norrington snapped, but he sounded childish and unconvincing, even to himself.

Jack seemed to know exactly what was passing through his head.  "Quiet," he ordered.  "Or I'll make things really difficult for you…"  He smiled wickedly.  "I'll offer to take you home."

*********************************

Remember, the more I hear, the more excited I get, and the faster I translate from my head onto the computer…


	11. ch11

**To Zeech**:  Sorry about the Dr. Pepper!   :o)

**To Narsil**:  I have other plans for our poor young man…but on the other hand, maybe he _would make a good pirate…._

**********************************

First thing in the morning, as soon as he understood what the crew was chattering about, Norrington stormed into Jack's cabin.  "You're joking."

"Not at all."  Jack leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk.  "We sail in, drop off that poor fool, take whatever we want, and sail out again.  There's no real port there, no Navy base, no ships.  Simple, eh?  We'll go ashore in the boats and be out again in a matter of a few hours.  They have no army to reckon with."

Norrington swallowed.  "You'll kill anyone who resists."

"Well, we don't expect much resistance," Jack said carelessly.

"I am deadly serious, Jack – I won't allow it.  I'll fight you if I have to.  You're proposing to sack an innocent, unarmed, harmless village of people who probably only _have one set of silver candlesticks apiece.  It can't possibly seem like a good idea, even to you!"_

"How good an actor are you?"  Jack had suddenly stopped fidgeting, and was regarding Norrington intently.

"I…what?"

"If I told you something," Jack clarified, "that had to be kept from the crew…could you act _exactly _as you are acting now, without giving the slightest indication that you knew any further than they do?"

Startled by the sudden change in the captain's manner, Norrington just stuttered, "I…I don't know."

Jack laughed breezily.  "Then you'll just have to trust me, mate.  Get out of my cabin.  And if I hear so much as _one word that could be construed as mutinous…I'll cut your ears off.  And that's a promise."_

Once again, Norrington hadn't the foggiest idea of what was passing through Jack's head, and it irritated him terribly.  "Wouldn't it make more sense to say you'll cut out my tongue?" he snapped.  "If you're going to make ridiculous threats, you might as well make them properly."

"Ah, but that _would _be a ridiculous threat.  We both know that I'd never deprive myself of the pleasure of your conversation...and that I'd never allow another parrot on board.  By the way, was it _you_ who taught Cotton's parrot to ask me to bed?"

Norrington scowled.  "I will not be distracted."

"Very well.  Listen, I was not joking.  I've been on the wrong end of a mutiny…or the right end, depending on how you look at it, I suppose… and I don't intend to let it happen again.  Not a word of complaint to the others.  Not a word.  Do I make myself clear?"

Norrington struggled for a moment but could think of nothing to match Jack's clever "inescapably" back on the Dauntless.  _Back in the day when **I** gave the orders and **he** followed them, he thought morbidly as he left the cabin with only a terse nod._

****************************

The first thing he noticed outside was Ana Maria leaning over the railing.  A loud retching noise let him know exactly what she was doing, and disgust joined his embarrassment in a quick and losing battle against concern.

He approached to within a pace or two – the closest he had ever come intentionally – and cleared his throat.

She glanced over her shoulder.  "What?  Bloody, what are you-"  but then she turned back to the sea and threw up again.

For the last week he had been working hard to believe that as a pirate, Ana Maria was exempted from all the rules governing behavior towards ladies.  Now was the time to test that theory.  Without being asked, he stepped up directly behind her and gathered up her hair.  It made practical sense – she would undoubtedly be glad not to have her hair cross paths with the remains of her breakfast.  Still, touching a woman so intimately…it just felt _wrong_, and he half-expected her to turn and reproach him.

Instead, she coughed and said, "Thanks."

"Are you ill?"  _What a stupid question._

She laughed a little before retching again.  "Oh, no, I feel fine," she said.  Sarcasm sounded a bit coarse and out of place on her, as though she were new to it.  _Jack's influence_.  Norrington found himself immediately blaming the captain.

After a moment she straightened up and wiped her mouth on her shirt.  (_On her shirt, her **shirt!)  "It must be the food we took yesterday… curse them for giving us-"**_

"Giving us?"  Norrington smiled.

She shrugged.  "It doesn't matter.  I'll be fine."  She jammed her hat back on her head and walked away, and he realized with intense frustration that he'd forgotten to ask her about Jack's secret plan… and now, especially since he'd behaved so familiarly towards her, he'd probably never get the courage to approach her again.

"Bloody pirates," he muttered.  

****************************

Sorry this chapter was short, but I was done with it and not the next bit, so I decided to give you what I have.  The next one will be longer.  Expect it sometime this weekend.  And review while you wait!  Thanks to everybody who's responded so far.


	12. ch12

"Land ho!"

The lookout's jubilant shout brought Jack up on deck immediately.  He snatched up the spyglass, obviously in the best of moods…

Until he took a closer look.  Gibbs, too, noticed something amiss.  "Is that…is that smoke, Captain?"

Jack scrubbed quickly at his the lens and looked again.  "Yes, I believe it is," he muttered.  "Damn it – we're too late!"  He handed off the looking-glass roughly and stormed into his cabin, slamming the door behind him.

A knock came a moment later.  Only two people would be brave or stupid enough to intrude when Jack was in a fury…and of the two of them, Ana Maria probably had more sense.

"That you, Bloody?  Come in."

*******************************

Norrington entered and closed the door behind him.  "The place is all afire.  We can see the smoke all the way from out here.  What happened?"

Jack  was bent over a chart on his desk.  "A ship called _Neptune's Favor," he answered testily.  "I can't imagine how they got here ahead of us – I was sure we had enough time to-"_

"You _knew_ they were going to sack this place?"

"I heard a thing or two."  Jack gestured dismissively.  "I thought we could beat them here."

"You assumed the citizens would prefer to give up all their gold to you rather than have it stripped from their corpses by this other ship?" Norrington guessed.

"Naturally.  And I was also hoping to take the _Neptune's Favor by surprise, scuttle her, and take on some of her crew.  They're a bit bloodthirsty over there, but on the whole they know how to pilot a damn ship.  We need more men."_

"Well, there's no sense crying over spilled milk.  Now what?"

Jack continued to pore over his map.  "Give me a moment."

"Every _moment_ you take brings us closer and closer to shore, where the survivors – if there are any – will be less than pleased to see another pirate ship land.  Unless we want to fight them _and the __Neptune's Favor, we had better turn about and get moving."_

"All right."  Jack beckoned him closer.  "Their course – what I predict it to be, anyway – is the one marked with red dashes.  Find the best place to intercept them.  I'll go on deck and explain the situation to the crew."  He paused.  "If any of the other marks make sense to you, please be so good as to disregard them."

Norrington stared at the map.  Several different routes criss-crossed the map, some of them dated or emphasized by comments like "_Yes – as soon as possible" in Jack's uneven handwriting.  He hurried to analyze the course of the _Neptune's Favor_ so that he'd have time to decipher the meaning of the map before Jack came back…_

*****************************

It didn't take him long.  A mere ten minutes alone with the strange chart told Norrington all he needed to know, and when Jack came back into the cabin, he was all ready to brag.  "If we follow _this course," he said, tracing it out with his finger, "We can intercept them _here_ in about four or five days."  He pointed to one of the other dotted lines and made his move.  "And then we'll be in perfect position to chase this other ship, and we should catch her easily inside a week."_

Jack looked him in the eyes.  "Chase this other ship?"

"Sorry," Norrington offered, not sounding sorry at all.  "You must have known I'd figure it all out."

"I had my suspicions," Jack admitted.  "But isn't it a great plan?  Far too many ships have been encroaching on my territory lately, and they need to be taught a lesson.  Besides, what better way to get rich than robbing other pirates?"

"That's certainly where a lot of the gold is – _if you can get them to give up the locations of their stashes.  And there aren't nearly so many moral objections…not that you have moral objections anyway."  He admired the chart some more.  "How on earth did you figure all this out?"_

Jack just put a finger to his lips.  "Come on, Bloody – I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!  If you keep asking questions, I'll think you're trying to deprive me of the air of mystery for which I am so very well-known…"

Norrington smiled.  "I'm not sure it's the _mystery you're known for, Captain Sparrow.  Oh," he added innocently, "Here – you've smudged a bit."  He reached out and made a big show of touching up the makeup under Jack's eye, then stepped away with a cheeky grin._

Jack brought his hands up in a mocking sort of supplication.  "_Please tell me you're not making fun of me fashion sense," he said, eyes wide._

Norrington didn't answer.

"…Because I was just about to offer _you some tips on improving your image.  How about a tattoo?"_

Norrington decided to remain silent, hoping that Jack was joking.  He tried to ignore it when the pirate pulled up his sleeve and traced designs on his forearm, but then it started to tickle and he pulled free.  "Stop it.  No tattoo."

"Come on – every pirate's got one."

"I'm not a pirate."

"But it would look so _wonderful,"_ Jack whined.  "Are you sure?"

"Quite."

"Please?  At least an earring?"  He was begging half in jest, but when Norrington hesitated, he decided to press on more seriously, "You can always take it out again."

The Commodore's lips twitched as though he were fighting a smile.  "No earring.  What exactly do you take me for, Sparrow?  I'm a Commodore of the royal navy."

Jack arched his eyebrows so expressively that he didn't even need to comment.  Norrington tried again.  "In all seriousness I don't…"

"It's not irreversible, mate," Jack reminded him.  "Why not?"

Norrington gave in with surprising ease.  "Oh, very well," he said, trying to sound irritated.  "An earring if I must."

********************************

Ten minutes later Jack was all ready to proceed.  He had a bottle of alcohol handy as a disinfectant, a box of assorted earrings to choose from, and a large needle.  "Head to the side," he instructed.

Norrington complied.  "Have you done this before?"

"Oh, yes," Jack assured him insincerely.  "I'll count to three.  Ready?"

"Yes..."

"One..."  And he drove the needle through the Commodore's earlobe.

Norrington yelped and jerked away, falling clear out of his chair onto the floor.  He looked up, attempting to glare, but his eyes were watering too much for it to be effective.  "You bastard – I thought you were going to do it on '_two_.'"

Jack only smiled and held out a gold earring.

*****************************************

Apologies for the delay.  College is a bit more difficult this year than I'd anticipated, but I promise to keep the updates coming regularly anyhow.  Still interested?  Keep reviewing for me!


	13. ch13

Once again I apologize for the loooong delay.  This time I don't want to jinx myself by saying the next chapter should be out soon, but…. *looks around furtively*….  It should!  And you know the drill…read it, review it pretty please.  Yarr.

*****************************

Norrington made an peremptory gesture for the spyglass and Jack handed it over, then ordered the red flag hoisted.

"No quarter, Captain?"  Ana Maria looked surprised.

Norrington beat him to it.  "If they win, they'll kill us all no matter what flag they're sailing under.  We might as well try and scare them a bit.  Besides," he added under his breath, "If we _do slaughter them at least we'll have been honest about it."_

Jack smiled but it seemed his mind was elsewhere.  Ana Maria picked up on it immediately, and touched him on the shoulder.  "Captain?"

"All right, you two, here's the plan," Jack said roughly, dragging himself back down to earth.  "Their ship is no match for us in a firefight and I'm sure they know it – they'll have to board us and kill us by hand if they really intend to make off with the _Pearl.  Don't repel them."_

"You mean we're to _let_ them board us?" Ana Maria demanded.  "Are you sure?"

"I think Jack thinks he has a plan," Norrington suggested doubtfully.

"Aye.  Listen here," Jack said, lowering his voice.  "It's likely we won't be able to keep them off, so we might as well prepare ahead of time.  Assume they'll board.  Goal number one is, of course, to take them prisoner or at least kill them.  If that fails, I'll have to resort to drastic measures."  He turned to Ana Maria.  "You know – the one with the powder magazine."

"Ah."  She frowned.  "And I suppose I'll be the one to…"

"Would you trust any of the others?" Jack interrupted.

"No.  I'll go prepare."  She leaped lightly down the stairs and was gone, leaving Norrington staring after her in puzzlement.

"Where is she going?"

"Never mind about her, Bloody, just listen up.  This trick is very effective but only if the whole crew does exactly as I say.  When I jump up on deck and climb that barrel over there – see? – we'll all know it's time.  We've done this before.  When you see me up there you've got to immediately stop shouting, stop firing guns, try – without getting yourself killed – try to keep your fighting as quiet as possible.  I'll be shouting.  I'll say I rigged the _Pearl to explode so they can't have her.  Echo what I'm saying and head for the railings."_

"We all pretend we're trying to go overboard," Norrington continued, nodding his comprehension.  "Then those pirates will think the ship is about to blow, and they'll run for it, back to their own ship or even just into the ocean."

"Precisely."  Jack grinned.  "But that's only an escape in case things start to look dark.  Ideally, we'll catch them all aboard here, take whatever prisoners we can, and keep their ship."

"They think we're fighting to the death – you're flying the red flag…"  Norrington started, then grinned as understanding dawned.  "I see.  Since our prisoners will be expecting execution, an offer to join the crew will seem like a gift from God."

"Aye.  And what's the only way to make a man eat half a jellyfish?"

"Threaten him with the whole."  Norrington shook his head.  "Jack, you're mad."

"Aye."  Jack handed Norrington the spyglass.  "Keep an eye on them while I explain things to the crew."

***********************

Expecting the _Neptune's Favor_ to limp close enough for boarding, despite all the damage she took, Norrington had adapted some siege defenses he knew for the current situation.  As a result, nearly half the boarders didn't even get a chance to stand up on deck before they were shot down or knocked straight back into the sea.

Still, there were too many of them.  The _Pearl's crew was no match for them in hand-to-hand combat, and it wasn't long before Norrington decided time was up._

He fought his way over to the captain.  "Jack!  Your men are dropping.  Use your trick – we're never going to win this," Norrington panted.  "These pirates are berserk and they just won't surrender."

Jack nodded reluctantly and slipped away.  A moment later, Norrington saw him climb to his special place, sound a big bell, and start shouting.

They could just barely make out his words.  "Oy!  Crew!  Over, mates, get over – I've lit the fuse!  Run!  I've lit it!"

The others soon took it up.  "The powder magazine!  He's lit it – it'll blow!  Run!  _Run!"_

The word spread.  Now, the idea of battle was abandoned for a more general sort of chaos, as pirates on both sides were shoving one another out of the way in an effort to throw themselves over the side before the Pearl exploded.  Some of the boarders tried to swing themselves back to the _Neptune's Favor_, while others just took the nearest route and dove into the sea.

Most of the _Pearl_'s_ crew, in on the secret, stayed put and only pretended to dash for the railings.  Within minutes the ship was cleared of invaders, except a few who were vastly outnumbered and persuaded at gunpoint to drop their weapons._

Although injured and exhausted, Norrington watched the whole maneuver with amusement.  _Trust Jack to think of an outlandish plan that sows complete chaos and for no good reason,_ he thought.  Now they would be right back where they'd started – shouting obscenities at each other from their two separate ships.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.  "I think I saw her jump," Jack was saying.  Norrington tried vainly to see what he was pointing to.  "I'm going in after her, you hear?  Get out of here now.  If I don't come back, you're in charge, mate, all right?"  He was tying a rope around his waist.

"Saw who?"

"Ana Maria – who else?  I should never have let her…"

"Jack, what are you-"  But there was no point in asking; it was quite clear what Jack was going to do.  He stepped up and dove overboard gracefully, leaving Norrington utterly confused.

Well, when in doubt, there were always his orders, weren't there?  He bellowed to the crew to let out more sail, hoping Jack had let everybody know that he was to be obeyed.

"Done, sir," Gibbs spoke up immediately.  "Everyone knows what to do – Jack told us what might happen.  We've got just enough time to get clear of this mess…  Unless we should wait for him?"

"No," Norrington said instantly.  "There's no good hanging about when he's said to go."

The _Pearl lurched and heaved.  Norrington hung on, staring overboard and willing Jack to resurface.  He glanced at the rope Jack had tied to the railing and was astonished to find it slack.  How on earth?  Could Jack possibly be swimming fast enough to avoid being dragged?  Especially hanging on to Ana Maria?_

No, of course not.  Jack must have untied it from himself and was swimming free.  _So much for safety precautions.  Norrington watched the rope trail the ship like a long, tranquil sea-snake, winding a path through all the corpses and debris…_

He tore his eyes away at last and faced the crew.  "Jack went after Ana Maria and I don't see either of them," he said shortly.  "Why are we slowing?  Did I _tell you to-"_

"We're far enough away now, sir," Gibbs said, lowering his eyes, "so I thought perhaps we should wait a few minutes…just to see, you know?  He might be all right."

Impatient with the sailor's poor judgment, Norrington snapped, "We can't stop here – those pirates will come after us once they see that our ship hasn't blown up-"

**_BOOM!_**

A deafening explosion cut his words short.  Norrington yelped in panic, then whirled around to see what the devil had happened…

The _Neptune's Favor_ had been totally obliterated, and was now floating in small burning pieces all across the ocean.  "What the bloody hell-"  Norrington's eyes widened as the truth came to him.  "It was Ana Maria – she went and lit _their_ powder magazine, didn't she, while we were all fighting?"

"Aye."  One of the other sailors took off his cap.  "Such a brave lass."

Norrington could hardly believe that Jack had neglected to share such an important part of the plan with him.  Struggling to find something to distract him from a sense of betrayal, he finally settled on, "He let…he let a _woman do that?  He sent his woman over to certain death-"_

"_You can't ever win at cards if you're not willing to risk anything, mate."_  The crew drew in a collective gasp at the airy, ghostly answer, and raced over to the railing.

And there was Jack.  He had scaled his rope almost all the way to the top, but since one hand was kept occupied by the unconscious woman draped over his shoulders, he couldn't quite navigate the railing successfully.  Norrington stared, mouth wide open, as everyone helped take Ana Maria from the captain and lay her on deck.

As they crowded around her, trying to decide whether she was breathing or not, Norrington noticed that Jack still hadn't climbed all the way over.  He leaned down to offer his hand, then thought better of it and just dragged Jack over with both arms.

"Thanks, mate," Jack whispered, eyes fluttering closed.

********************************

Jack awoke to a flurry of repair work and well-intentioned butchery that the crew was calling "medical attention." Wincing at the screams and the damage to his poor ship, he  dragged himself upright and tried to find someplace comfortable to sit.  An overturned crate, nearly unbloodied, served the purpose well.

Somebody soon came to sit beside him.  "What in heaven's name possessed you to send Ana Maria out to do that?"

"Ease up a bit, Bloody," Jack said wearily, resting his head in his hands.  "Look at me, all right?  I've been punished enough."  He looked up after a moment, with his most winning look of suffering sensitivity, but Norrington only snorted.

"Well, at least we see that _you're back to normal."  He sighed.  "Ana Maria will be all right, too…if she survives the _operation_, that is.  I think they're trying to sew something closed, but my stomach couldn't take any more and I left the room."_

Jack shrugged.  "She can take care of herself.  What about you – have they fixed you up yet?"

"In a manner of speaking."  Norrington's sleeve had been cut off at the elbow and he pulled up what was left to reveal a haphazard mess of black stitches that covered a gash down his triceps.  "I already prayed."

"Prayed?"

He looked heavenward and recited, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do," then rolled his sleeve back down with a wry smile.  "I think he thought he was helping."

"How did it happen?  Wait – let me guess."  Jack threw his arm up as though protecting his face from a blow from the side.

"Yes."

"Ah.  The dreaded elbow-parry.  Bad policy, Bloody, very bad, and it always leaves a scar…but don't worry – practically every pirate's got one."

"Splendid," Norrington mock-snarled, then got down to business.  "But what now?"

"Well, we don't have to worry about them coming after us for revenge," Jack said brightly.  "And we have a few prisoners who can tell us where they kept their loot.  But on a slightly lower note, we _do have to worry about taking the next ship, and doing a better job of it.  Get something to eat, come into the cabin and we'll talk."_

As he stood and walked away, Norrington noticed that the dripping from his clothes and hair wasn't all water.  "Jack, you're losing blood," he called.

Jack whirled around and shrugged theatrically.  "I've got plenty."

Norrington only just managed to resist adding, _Jack,__ you're losing your mind.  Although, come to think about it, perhaps he was losing his mind, too.  It occurred to him much later that he hadn't objected – not once – to any of Jack's _we_'s._

*******************************

TBC.

Luckily the plot doesn't call for much more naval fighting.  It's easy to envision stupid things Jack might think of, but hard to put them in naval/piratespeak.  Anyway…Review this for me, willya?  Let me know you're still interested, and I'll bust me bottom to write faster.  Yarr.


	14. ch14

Yup, this is just a teaser, the first bit of the next chapter, which is practically finished...

*****************

            Four ships after the _Neptune's Favor,_ Jack decided to stop in Tortuga to see what the rumours were saying.  The size of the crew had doubled, which was a good thing, but Ana Maria and Bloody were beginning to get impatient.  She was whining insistently about getting her own ship, and he about getting taken back home to Port Royal.  Jack decided to make certain that word of his pirate-hunting hadn't gotten out to the wrong people; he'd now sunk four of the most successful and daring pirate ships and he knew that other pirates might not be too pleased about it.  Last time's target, the _Hellfire_, had limped off towards a storm Jack wasn't too keen on sailing into, and he had had to let her go, risking that she'd make it home and spread stories.  Jack abstained from rum for two whole days so that he could think of how best to counter them.

            The new crew members had all been sworn to silence.  Anybody who had refused Jack's terms had been locked up for awhile and then, if they couldn't be persuaded to change their minds, shot.  So far there had been only two who were so stubborn.

            Surprisingly, the former Commodore Norrington didn't raise too big a stink about that.  "We fought under the red flag," he said, "So they knew exactly what was coming to them.  Besides, they deserve it – they're pirates."

            Still, although the workload about the _Pearl had decreased considerably with so many sailors, it was time for a break.  The food was running low, the curiosity was running high, and the men were itching to get their hands on something female.  Time for Tortuga…_

*****************

TBC

And why did I only post such a little bit?  

Three reasons:  

I don't want to get in the habit of only posting every couple weeks again.  

I was secretly hoping to break 100 reviews this time and didn't, so come on, guys, drop me a line!  

13 is unlucky so I wanted to get a 14th chapter out as soon as possible.

R/R!


	15. ch15

Points to the reader who remembered the dude Norrington shot!  I was hoping I hadn't left him for too long.  Don't forget that guy, he comes into play later.  Not this chapter, but the next one.

*******************************

One round of the taverns told Jack that nothing too damaging had been said.  As far as anyone knew, the only ship to have been attacked by the _Black Pearl_ was the _Hellfire_, and Jack shifted as much blame as he could onto it for starting their fight in the first place.  Some odd stories had been circulating about a pirate who called himself Bloody and habitually drank the blood of his victims.  "Oh, him," Jack corroborated that one.  "Yes, he seems to thrive on it, honestly.  It's amazing."

The only bad news, really, came from Elizabeth.  Goodness only knew whom she'd bribed to get a letter brought to the pirate city, but here it was, addressed to _Captain Jack Sparrow in her most beautiful spindly cursive._

It irked Jack to admit that he couldn't read script, but eventually he gave up and brought the letter to Norrington, who had refused to leave the ship and mingle with the pirates.

The letter turned out to be short and to the point:

**_Jack, I have heard some BLOODY strange stories lately.  What are you doing with YBFN?  I am very ashamed of one of you.  I would be quite surprised at YBFN if he were doing this all of his own free will, but if you are forcing his hand I demand that you stop it at once.  Write back to me as soon as possible and tell me what is going on.   – Elizabeth Turner_**

"Smart girl," Jack commented once the letter had been read out.  "Even if someone read this there's nothing that could be held against anyone.  Although it was a bit stupid to sign her name anyway…"

"Jack…" Norrington was staring at Elizabeth's neat handwriting.  "Wh- what have I done?"

"_Please_ don't get all dramatic!" Jack exclaimed.  "Come on – you'll be home inside a few weeks, mate, and you're missing your only chance to live it up.  I _order you to come ashore tonight.  See the sights.  We'll fix you up with some nice Tortuga maiden and you'll forget all about this nasty letter."_

Still off-balance after the reminder of his old life, Norrington allowed himself to be dragged ashore into a tavern.  When he finally came out of his reverie and got his bearings, he was sitting sandwiched between the two most horrible-looking prostitutes he had ever seen.  Having already resumed his policy of perpetual inebriation, Jack sat across from him describing some sea battle or another with such vehement gestures as to knock something over after nearly every sentence.            Realizing he wasn't being watched carefully, Norrington struggled to his feet, detached the women, and made a run for it.  He started back towards the Pearl, furious with himself and with Jack and with pirates in general, and was nearly there when his stomach started growling.

Well, there was no harm in stopping in at a tavern for a moment just to eat, was there?  Before he could change his mind, Norrington ducked in to an almost-respectable-looking establishment…

…And collided squarely with a pirate who exclaimed, "You!  You're the one they call Bloody, ain't you?  I've heard all about you."

"Er…yes…yes, I am."  It was better to be feared than bullied, and Norrington was gratified to see the pirate back away.  Perhaps there_ was something to notoriety after all, he reflected.  The tavern-keeper sat him at the nicest table and served him the least-maggoty food.  The least ugly ladies came up to him, draped themselves over his lap, and demanded to hear stories of his adventures._

Just when he thought he might indeed be in over his head, his captain sauntered into the pub and sat down at his table.  "Hello there, ladies, Bloody.  I knew I'd find you here, mate.  How's life?"

At his friendliest and most entertaining, Jack shared stories of the last few ships they'd taken, giving Norrington far more than his share of credit every time.  Soon he had the women fighting over who would take him to her room.

When the bill was paid and everyone was thoroughly intoxicated, the group staggered out into the night.  Jack escorted his lady to her home, presented her with a lovely necklace "to remember this wonderful night by," and kissed her goodnight.

Norrington stared oddly at him until he explained himself.  "Ana Maria is waiting for me," he slurred, "And I promised I'd come back to her tonight."  He smiled.  "The other ladies will have to wait until morning."

Certain that they would be hung over into the next decade, Norrington's eyebrows rose.  "Morning?" he echoed.  "Perish the thought."

"Aye, morning.  I can rise with the sun, mate.  Listen: if drink drives every thought from your head save one, be sure it's this: I'm _Captain Jack Sparrow.  Savvy?"_

"Of coursh.  Night, Jack."

Jack tipped his hat and left, waving cheerfully to Norrington…and his companion, who threw herself into his arms the moment the captain had gone….

******************

The next morning, Norrington remembered nothing beyond stumbling into her run-down set of rooms.  Cursing his memory for its censorship, and cursing all the earth's rum for the headache he awoke with, he pulled his clothing on (inside out), left some pirate booty on the dresser for the lady, and was gone before she even awoke.

But the next night, determined not to repeat his mistake, Norrington was careful not to drink himself quite so far under the table.  When the ladies began fussing over him he still had his wits very much about him, and even managed to tell some stories and jokes without Jack's help.  Finally it was again time to leave the tavern for someone's room, and he did it this time without bumping into quite so many tables.

Out on the street, valiantly allowing his lurching date to hang onto his arm, Norrington felt rather claustrophobic.  There were far too many people and too much stink and sweat, so he headed down a small back alleyway.  Reeling a bit from the rum and the girl's overpowering perfume, he didn't even hear the footsteps behind them.  A hand on his shoulder made him whirl around, and he got a quick glimpse of a big dirty fist before it connected with his face and

******************

Norrington opened his eyes and then squinted them shut again, wincing as the sunlight drove daggers into his already-aching head.  He lay still for a few moments, trying in vain to remember why he was lying in what felt (and smelled) remarkably like the gutter, and then finally forced himself in one agonizing motion to sit up and look around.

Once his vision cleared and he could let go of his temples, the first thing he noticed was a pirate sprawled out next to him.  It was another moment before he noticed the blood that had pooled under the man's midsection…and only a second or two after that before he noticed that the bloody sword lying next to them was a perfectly balanced, elaborately decorated Will Turner original.

Norrington gulped and reached to his hip, praying that somehow his own sword was still there and the murder weapon had belonged to somebody else…

Nope.  Empty, of course.  His sword was _not where it belonged, it was lying on the ground covered in some dead pirate's blood and-_

The "dead" pirate chose that moment to sneeze.  Blood flew from his mouth and he groaned, slowly moving his hands to cradle his wounded belly, as Norrington watched in horrified fascination.

_Whoever did that – me, I suppose – did a nice job,_ he reflected.  Several of the pirate's fingers were clearly broken, as was his nose and probably a rib or two besides, judging from the look of his chest.  Not to mention the stab wound that had left a respectable puddle of blood on the ground.

Still feeling oddly numb and befuddled, Norrington attempted to rise and see about getting the other man medical attention.  As soon as he'd struggled to his feet, though, he became aware of a number of funny sensations in his body.

Something itched under his nose.  He went up to touch it, and found that most of his face was caked with dried blood.  Something was wrong with his left leg.  He glanced down and noticed a small, thin dagger protruding from his thigh.  That could explain why it was so difficult to stand.   But wasn't it odd…a lady's weapon?  What lady had-

All of a sudden the answer came back to him.  This fool on the ground had grabbed his lady-friend last night, and snatched the dagger she'd drawn to defend herself with.  Norrington remembered viewing the scene from an odd perspective – he'd been on the ground, knocked down by a hard punch to the face… which would explain the cut under his eye that was the source of all this blood.

He licked his lips, frowning as he became aware of their metallic flavor.  He could remember the whole fight, now – what had started as a drunken attempt to carry off a woman had escalated quickly when Norrington objected on moral grounds.  She'd run away while the men were exchanging blows, but finally when Norrington tried to knock the pirate's dagger away, he'd ended up driving it down into his own leg instead.  Furious, he'd drawn his sword and efficiently put a hole through his attacker's abdomen, before sinking down to the ground and comforting oblivion.

He wondered what to do next.  

Thankfully, the injured pirate helped him out.  "Tay-ee-uh wenches."

"What?"  Norrington bent over him to hear better.

"Said, take…me…t'one o'th'wenches," he gasped.  "Have er bind it for me…I'm bleedin bad, mate."

Was this what pirates did for one another after a fight?  Did this fool even remember who had given him the wound?  Norrington wondered whether he ought to just walk away, but he finally decided he couldn't really leave a man in such bad condition.  He hauled him to his feet and, doing his best to ignore his own injuries, half-dragged the semi-conscious pirate back to the main road to look for help.

Apparently sleeping late was the custom in Tortuga, for although the sun was already high, very few people seemed to have recovered yet.  Several pirates who, like Norrington, had slept sprawled in the streets had also been awakened by the sun, but they merely dragged themselves into some shade before collapsing again.

_No help from those fellows,_ Norrington thought wryly, heading for a random house.  Perhaps some of the ladies lived there, and they might be able to help since they would just be asleep and less horribly hung-over.

They knocked on the door and then stood waiting, leaning on each other and breathing heavily.  The other pirate spoke first.  "What's your name, friend?"

"N…" Norrington cleared his throat.  "They call me Bloody.  You?"

"You?"  After a few unsuccessful attempts, he managed to stand on his own and look Norrington in the face.  "_You're Bloody?  Jack Sparrow's little friend?"_

"I wouldn't call myself _little," Norrington said, feeling inexplicably needled._

"You'll be little by the time we're through with you.  We'll cut you to pieces, mate.  We heard what you did to the _Hellfire, and now this, and we-"_

At that moment the door opened.  Not even caring whose house it was, satisfied that he had passed the responsibility off to someone else, Norrington turned and limped carefully back towards the ships.

His only thought was finding Jack and getting himself the bloody hell out of piracy once and for all.

************************************

TBC

I originally had Bloody's little, um, altercation take place on his first night in Tortuga, but then I figured I should at least give him one night of drunken debauchery before getting him stabbed again.  Poor little bugger!

And if anybody thinks it's OOC for him to spend the night with a hooker, you can always believe his better nature took over at the last moment and they just cuddled up and went nite-nite together.  *leers and begins to channel Barbossa*  But I doubt it.

Review for me!  Or he won't get any more sleezy Tortuga lovin'!  (he won't get any anyway, though.)


	16. ch16

"Captain Sparrow, I have played along with this lunacy long enough!"  Norrington made an intense effort to lower his voice.  "I have gone far beyond upholding my end of our bargain, and I therefore _insist_ that you be so good as to fulfill yours immediately."

Jack was at his most insufferable.  "Oh, you _insist_, do you?" he asked sarcastically.  "Well in that case we'll see what we can do.  Hmm, how about…nothing."

"Jack, I am serious!"  Seeing that Jack was about to continue with something even ruder, Norrington got desperate and did something that would generally strike him as unwise: he told Jack the plain and unvarnished truth.  "Life on this ship is a lot different than I thought it would be," he admitted softly.  "And you're right, I've been happy here.  But I still need to go home."  Jack looked thoughtful but didn't answer, so Norrington persisted, "It's time."

"How can you do it, mate?" Jack asked after a moment.  He, too, had grown serious.

"Do what?"

"Leave this – the open ocean, the ship…" he snorted and added "…Tortuga…"

Norrington shrugged.  "Don't laugh.  I'm sure it will strike you, too, one day.  Eventually you'll want to settle down to a normal life, maybe a family.  It's possible to have fun without living in complete lawlessness, you know."

"Is it?" Jack feigned surprise.  "Well, that's news.  All right," he said, rising from his chair as though he'd reached a decision.  "I'll take you home, after one more ship.  One last fight to remember your old mate Jack Sparrow by.  Do we have an accord?"   He held out his hand.

"I can't believe I'm making _another deal for my safe return," Norrington grumbled.  "You'd better keep to this one, I'm warning you.  __Yes, Sparrow, we have a damned accord," he added, since Jack hadn't moved his hand.  He slapped a quick and bad-tempered handshake and stomped away._

Stomping was amazingly painful, though, and he decided that the lovely vision-inducing medication was finally wearing off.  On his way to raid the medicine chest again, he ran right into Ana Maria, who took one look at him and threw an arm around his waist.

"I'll help you," she said roughly.  "Walking like that it's a wonder you haven't knocked over everything on deck."  She glanced down at his injury as they staggered on, and made a face.  "What've you done to it, Bloody?  It's opened up again."

The bandage was indeed soaked through.  "Damn it!"  Norrington stamped his foot without thinking, in a habitual gesture of frustration, then gasped and grabbed at his leg with both hands.  "Oh, _God!"_

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his breathing, which had become harsh and raspy with the sudden horrible pain.  When he was finally capable of standing up straight and opening his eyes again, the first thing he did was growl at Ana Maria, "Are you _still_ here?  What do you want?"

Thankfully, she understood his mood for what it was – humiliation, pure and simple – and didn't snap at him.  "Come on – let's get your medicine and then I'll bind it up again.  You really can't walk on it if this is going to happen.  You can't let it get infected."

"I know.  I've only just stopped being careful of that cut on my arm, and now…"

They got him his medicine and soon the deck began revolving gently.  He felt compelled to sit down.  "I really hate this," he mumbled.  "I think that chair is going to fall over and crush me."

The chair he was worried about was a good ten feet away, but Ana Maria just nodded.  "Yes, I'll…I'll keep it from you."  She seemed oddly uncertain as she sat and began peeling the bandage off his stab wound, a task which was only possible after she had sliced off one of the legs of his pants.  "Does it still h-"

"One always says _pants_ in the plural," he remarked, fingering his pants' ruined remains.  "But now these have only got one leg.  See?" he added when she didn't comment.  "The other is behind you."

"Yes, that's where I put it when I cut it off," Ana Maria agreed absently, not taking her eyes from her work.  She had produced a small bottle from somewhere and was pouring its stinging contents onto him.  "Shh," she soothed when he began to whimper.  "You need this or you can't get better, do you understand?"

Her manner amused him, and in his drugged, foggy state, he decided it would be a good idea to tease her about it.  "You sound like you're my wife.  Or my mother," he remarked, both ideas so funny he began to laugh hysterically.

She glared at him sharply, and though it was clear that he had meant nothing by the comments, her tenderness vanished.  "Did your mother beat you, then?  Because I'm about to."

"No, she didn't."  Norrington was so far gone now that he didn't notice how un-gentle she was being as she wrapped his wound tightly and dragged him to his feet.  "But I don't think she would like to hear that I'm a pirate now.  You won't tell her, will you?  You mustn't."

Ana Maria looked thoroughly exasperated.  "No, I won't tell her.  Now get in bed, you bloody fool, I want nothing more to do with you and I don't want to see you standing again until that has closed up somehow.  Do you understand?"

"Ha, ha!  Yes!"  He was giddy enough not to mind that he'd been left to find his way back to his bed all alone, bumping into things and people and comets on the way.

**********

The next time he awoke, the Devil was hovering over him.  "What?  That's not fair!" he exclaimed instantly.  "I haven't had my last rites but it's not my fault, you can't just-"

"Wha'd ye say, Bloody?"  Satan lurched to his feet and wiped his dirty face.

"You've come to drag me to Hell, haven't you?" Norrington hung onto his covers, teeth chattering.  "Where am I?"  

He watched in terror as the Devil opened a door and shouted out into the darkness, "Jack!  Your bloody friend has lost his bloody mind!"  He actually disappeared for a moment, and Norrington recognized the sound of a door closing.  Aha.  Satan had left the room.  Immensely relieved, he fell back asleep.

A little while later, he awoke for long enough to be fed.  This time Norrington drank what they handed him without protest, but found he'd forgotten what he wanted to ask.  Eventually, frustrated and unable to speak coherently, he'd drifted off again…

…only to awaken, lucid and alone, wondering what the hell he was sick with and why nobody had told him whether he was dying or not.  He could probably blame it all on either infection, or an adverse reaction to some of the medication he'd downed.  Whatever the sickness was, judging by the clammy quality of his bed it had probably involved a horrible fever which had only just broken.

Or perhaps he'd pissed himself.  He was forced to admit that that might be a possibility…only that couldn't account for his soaked _pillow, too, could it?  "God help me, I'm a raving lunatic," he said aloud, then spent a few minutes marveling at the gravelly quality of his voice.  Well, hoarse or not, he could still shout for help._

A few seconds of yelling brought a whole crowd to his door.  They burst in and crowded around, and he picked out the apologetic voice of Gibbs…or Satan…saying "It only seemed to make things worse when people stayed with ye, and ye wasn't awakenin', and so we thought it best to-"

"I understand perfectly," he murmured, and it seemed to silence everybody.

Jack spoke up from the doorway.  "I _told_ you he wasn't dying."  The other pirates cleared a space for him so that he could approach the bed.  "And you're just in time, mate.  We've put to sea, and we're going to take you home, but first, we expect to run into the _Hellfire_ within two or three days.  What a fight…"

"Oh, excellent," Norrington said sarcastically, letting his eyes drift closed.  "Just get me a sword, Captain, and I'll lead the charge."

"I knew we could count on you, mate."  Jack pat him on the shoulder and headed for the door.  "Now let's get a keg and celebrate!"

The rest of the crew followed him immediately.

*******************************

TBC.

Okey dokey.  You know the drill – review.  And I'll hurry.  I promise.


	17. ch17

Apologies in advance for such a talky chapter.  More action after this, I promise.

****************************

The taking of the _Hellfire_ went without a hitch.  Lots were killed in the fight and a few unruly prisoners had to be executed, but Jack managed to salvage almost half the crew and was extraordinarily pleased.  Ana Maria insisted that the ship be given over to her immediately, along with a few of the men she'd sailed with before and trusted.  The captured sailors of the _Hellfire_ would be split half and half between their own ship and the _Pearl._

Jack ordered Norrington, Gibbs, and Ana Maria into his cabin to finalize the details.

"Four of us, two ships.  Any thoughts?" Jack asked as soon as the door had closed.

Ana Maria, displaying her usual flawless mastery of the obvious, snapped, "We'll split up, two and two."

"Aye, but who's to go with which captain?"  Gibb's eyes darted from one pirate to the other.  "I'd sail under Jack any day of the year, only that leaves _you_ to sail with a mate you can't trust," he muttered to Ana Maria.

She nodded.  "Captain Sparrow, he was _your_ idea," she pointed out.

"I've no objections.  Gibbs can sail with you, and our bloody friend Norrington with me, and we'll get on fine.  Although," he mused, "It would be infinitely preferable to sail with _you, darling…you'd make a fine mate…"  He was not surprised when she slapped him across the face._

"Captain Sparrow, don't _I_ get any say in all this?" Norrington spoke up at last.  "This whole plan hinges on my cooperation, doesn't it?"

"Later, mate, later."  Jack wanted to have that conversation when they were alone.  He sent Ana Maria and her crew off, prowled the deck for a few minutes to ensure that everyone was at least _pretending to work, and then dragged Norrington back into the cabin._

He sat back and propped his feet on the desk, fully cognizant that his attitude was only making Norrington fume harder.  "Now.  What is it you wanted to talk to me about?  I know you're a bit irritable – since you've been sick and all.  I ought to have warned you, some of those Tortuga ladies can spread plague faster than you'd-"

"I don't know what you think you are doing, Sparrow, but you had better watch out," Norrington hissed.  His words were increasingly short and bitten-off, as he fought a losing battle to keep hold of his temper.  "You told me you'd _bring me home – not shoot me, not take me to bed, and for God's sake not promote me!  Do you not understand the meaning of the words _TAKE ME TO PORT ROYAL_?  How about __immediately – d'you know _that_ one, Sparrow?  Do you?"_

"That would be _Captain_ Sparrow, especially now," Jack reminded him, lowering his voice.  His gaze had sharpened but he still sounded calm.  "And be careful.  It's one thing for you to be impertinent in private but I will _not_ have you embarrassing me in front of the men.  This is not a ship of the royal navy, and half of this crew are new recruits without a shred of loyalty…have you any idea what they'll do to us if I look weak?  If you insinuate that I'm not to be feared?"

"To _us_?"

"Aye, Bloody."  Jack watched Norrington's face carefully, grinning widely as the Commodore absorbed how completely he was trapped.  "Us."

"You _bastard_, what have you done?"  Norrington had lost all self-possession and was in complete panic.  "If there's a mutiny I'll be killed as sure as you will!  If the ship is taken I'll be hanged just as quickly!  There is _no way on God's green earth to pretend I'm still your prisoner if I'm serving as first mate and the crew is obedient to my orders!  If we're caught-"_

"Exactly.  We're in this together now, mate.  We _are _sailing to Port Royal.  Originally I'd intended to give you the _Hellfire and a couple men and let you go yourself, but for some reason Ana Maria is hell-bent on keeping the ship for her own.  If you cooperate with me, I'll still find a way to get you home as though nothing had happened.  But in the meantime you had better do your level best to keep this ship running, because as you are no doubt aware by now, if you try to sabotage me in any way it'll be your neck, too.  Savvy?"_

"Yes, _Captain_, I'm afraid I understand you perfectly," Norrington said through gritted teeth.  "May I just ask why you don't simply kill me and be done with it?"

Jack spread his hands innocently and smiled.  "Oh, honestly!  Kill you?  Where would be the fun in that?"

*************************

Norrington drove the pirates like the dogs they were, and they made Port Royal in record time.  Only half a day from the sight of land, he finally cornered Jack and insisted on hammering out a detailed, workable plan for his return to society.

"Well?  How do you propose we do this?  I assume I'm taking that poor lad ashore with me, right?"

The injured boy had sat recovering in sullen silence for nearly the whole trip, and Jack was glad to finally be rid of him.  "That is indeed correct," he enunciated pompously.  "And it has come to me attention that the boy probably cannot swim, judging from his current unenviable medical condi-"

"Will you stop it?" Norrington growled.  "What do you want me to do?  Why can't we just take a boat, he and I, and row into the harbour?  You could let us off a long ways from shore, and the _Pearl_ could be gone long before anybody-"

"No- Sorry…did I not mention…?  We need to spring one of my friends from jail.  That'll mean I have to go ashore myself and-"

"Are you mad?"

"Most definitely, Bloody," Jack agreed generously, "But that's beside the point.  I really do have to-"

"Jack.  Please.  You cannot tell me you're seriously considering going to shore with us?  What about the _Pearl__?"_

"Gibbs'll watch over her for me.  Ana Maria and I already agreed on it, mate.  You're the last one to be told.  Here's what we'll do:  You, me, and the boy will go to shore in one of the boats.  I'll be hiding in a barrel or something…I haven't quite figured that part out yet…but in any case I won't be seen.  You and the boy will get yourselves noticed by some honest citizens-"

"-And we'll tell them we're the prisoners of pirates and we've only just escaped.  Understood.  The two of us are home free.  But then what about you and your shipmate?  Is he really necessary?"

"I'm losing my first mate here, Bloody!  I have no choice.  This fellow isn't quite as good as you but in a pinch I know he'll serve without a fuss.  See?"

Norrington fought through a vague twinge of guilt.  "Don't get yourself caught," he warned roughly.  "There will be no Will Turner this time, and I swear I won't lift a finger if you're captured, you understand?"

"Perfectly.  If I'm caught," Jack said, throwing his head back proudly, "I ask only that you have a cannon fired.  Can you do that?  It will tell Ana Maria what's happened so she knows not to wait for me."

Norrington frowned.  "Not to wait?"

Jack shrugged and explained, "Pirate's code."

"I know.  Any man who falls behind…. But Jack, surely that doesn't apply to _you?"_

"Why not?  I'm a man like any other."

"But you're…" Norrington struggled to put words on his objection.  "You're their captain.  You're Jack Sparrow.  You can't just be abandoned by-"

"I can and I will.  _If I'm caught, mate.  And that's a very, __very big 'if'."_

**********************

TBC.  (Gee, like we don't all know what's going to happen.  But I promise, there are still surprises.  Really.  Review review review!  What do you think so far?)


	18. ch18

"Jack, your 'foolproof' plan has just proved you a fool," Norrington hissed through his teeth.  "And we haven't even reached the bloody shore."

"What's that, mate?" Jack called cheerfully from the bodybag at the bottom of the rowboat.

The boy, who had finally given his name as Charles Foster, bent down to whisper, "There are soldiers _all about_, you filthy beast, and I don't think they'll believe that stupid excuse you concocted about burying my father.  Didn't you expect the shore to be unguarded?  Well, it's not, and I'm glad."

"Charles, I am warning you, if you so much as _breathe in a way that makes them suspicious, I will have you branded and hanged as a pirate.  For the last time, boy, I am deadly serious.  I swear it before God himself."_

Even dirty and bloodied as he was, Norrington looked very imposing now that he was back in his deliberately-battered Navy uniform.  Foster fell silent.

"What's going on?"  Jack asked again.

"Soldiers, Jack.  For them to have been here already…I don't know how much they know for certain, but they must certainly be suspicious and we may be searched.  Shall we move straight to the second plan?"

"Fine."  Jack slit open the sack instantly and crawled out.  He put on his hat, knelt behind Norrington, and put his sword to his throat.  "Comfortable?"

"Oh, very.  I needed a shave anyway," Norrington snarled.  "Careful, Jack, you're really cutting me."

"So much the better, mate," Jack growled, his voice cold.  Norrington found himself wishing he'd had his last rites before this excursion began.

He closed his eyes and attempted to pray.  Foster's chest was heaving furiously, and the soldiers on the shore, having seen their Commodore and the danger he was in, were already yelling in panic and drawing their weapons.  Jack alone seemed calm and unconcerned, so Norrington gave up trying to remember the Our Father and just leaned back against the pirate, struggling to match his steady breathing.

**********

Jack dragged Norrington out of the boat roughly and held him in front as a human shield.  "All right, boys, listen an' listen good," he drawled in his most coarse piratey accent.  "You're going to get you off to the jail and fetch me the prisoner I tell you to fetch, and I'll wait right here with your little friend and-"

"You'll let the Commodore go at once or we'll shoot you where you stand," a young officer said firmly.

Jack shrugged and dug his blade in a bit more, stopping only when Norrington gasped in pain.  Without taking his eyes off the soldiers in front of him, he used his other hand to reach up and feel for bleeding.  There was only a little.

"You'll put those guns down or he'll have more than a scratch to remember me by, lads," he corrected cheerfully.  Nothing happened, and he tightened his grip.

"For God's sake, do as he asks," Norrington gasped, half-strangled against the blade.  Once the shoulders had lowered their weapons, the pressure eased up a little bit and he could breathe again.  "Now-"

But they were interrupted.  Judging it a good time to make his move now that everybody's weapon hand had relaxed a bit, Foster charged forward from behind Jack and threw himself at the soldiers.  "Help me, save me!  They've taken me prisoner, both of those beastly-"

"_How dare you!_"  Norrington shouted, outraged.  "You filthy, lying, traitorous _pirate_!  You would lie to His Majesty's soldiers and betray your own filthy captain as well?"  He looked up at the soldiers.  "Don't believe a word of it – he's as much a pirate as the other.  He joined their crew as soon as his own ship was taken.  See that bruise over my left eye?  That's his idea of fun when his shift's ended – he tortures prisoners."

Shocked by the idea that the Commodore really _was on the pirate's side, Foster just gaped and made no attempt to defend himself as he was gathered up and clapped in irons.  While the soldiers were busy with that, Jack leaned forward and hissed softly, "Abandon the plan.  Let them take me to jail; I've a lock pick and I'll bust him out that way.  Their trigger fingers are jumpy and we're trapped against the sea – a hostage exchange will never work."_

Norrington waited a few moments before making his move.  They'd practiced this only once or twice the morning before, but it was simple enough to execute: yank down on Jack's arm and simultaneously step out to the side and behind Jack's leg, tripping him and throwing them both to the ground.

As rehearsed, Jack let go of his blade immediately to prevent any accidents, as though he'd been stunned by the fall.  Norrington rolled off of him and snatched up his gun, keeping him down until the soldiers had him totally chained up.

Then, Norrington made a big show of staggering about weakly and grabbing at soldiers for support.  The scene ended in his faking unconsciousness while cursing his and Jack's rotten luck.

***************  
TBC (soon)

Very, very sorry for having kept everybody waiting.  Finals, then holidays.  Ouch.


	19. ch19

  
  


"Are you _sure_ you're all right, sir?" Gilette asked for the hundredth time.

"Damn you to Satan's cesspools! _Yes_, I'm all right, now if we could please-" Norrington broke off abruptly and took a deep breath. _Good one, Bloody. Another few slips like that and you'll find yourself facing off with Sparrow in a neck-stretching contest._ "Sorry…I've been ranting and railing at idiotic _pirates_ so long I've almost forgotten how to speak to civilized people. At least there were no ladies present, eh?"

Gilette blinked, and returned Norrington's smile uneasily.

_That smile! Damn that, too!_ Since when had he started _smiling_? Norrington realized that this was going to be a lot more difficult than he had previously imagined. He cleared his throat and forced his mouth into a frown. "Very well - back to business. As I was saying, the last time we tried to hang J-...Sparrow... it turned into a bloody fiasco. We can't have that happen again."

"Well, sir, Will Turner is out of town..."

"Good. And Mrs. Turner? She is here? Send for her at once."

As the soldiers scrambled to obey, Norrington focused on resisting the urge to open the window and get some air. His headache was getting unbearable and he'd give almost anything for a swig of rum or at least some-

"Commodore? Sir? Please, sir, what do you think?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Norrington grated out. "Please repeat yourself."

"I said, don't you think it would be a good idea to keep Sparrow in a straight-jacket like a madman? I mean, we already have him shackled, but that hasn't stopped him from fashioning sixteen different lock-picks from various materials he's found in the cell or on his person since we caught him. That averages to more than four a day, sir, and-"

"Excuse me, but I fail to see how the rate of Mr. Sparrow's lock-pick production would factor in the decision of whether or not to waste time going to a madhouse to borrow a jacket. Yes, gentlemen, you heard me correctly: _waste_ time. It would be a _waste_ of time to drive an hour and back again when we can make do with what we have here. If he's too mobile in shackles, get some rope and tie him properly."

The soldier gulped. "Well, sir, we tried that. Several times, sir, but he cuts the ropes or breaks them or wriggles out."

Norrington whirled to face him. "Or simply magicks them away? Or chews through them like a rat?" His patience had finally worn out. "Or perhaps he's actually a vampire, and can change into a bat at will, and slip his chains that way! Are you quite through admiring Captain Sparrow's amazing powers? Yes? Good." When he was calm again, Norrington decided it would be a good idea to memorize his obstacles. "Tell me what sort of guard you've got set up around him…what precautions your officer is having you take."

"Guards at every corner of the corridors, no guard ever being out of sight of all the others even for a moment," a soldier began. "No food that's not been checked for hidden escape implements, no visitors whatsoever, no human contact except the guards, who may not talk to him or listen to anything he says…" He had to break off for a moment to breathe, but then continued to rattle off the list. "No opening Sparrow's cell for any reason, no approaching the bars to poke food through unless he's face down on the ground at the far end, no removing or allowing to be removed the metal that's been welded over his window from the outside, no being drunk while on duty, and no giving Sparrow alcohol either." He took another breath, but Norrington interrupted.

"No drinks for the prisoner? Whyever not?"

The soldier looked away, blushing a little. "Uh, well, sir, it may sound silly, but some of us have heard that he gets special _powers_ when he's drunk. And it may be wrong, of course, but we're taking no chances."

"I order you to be neither superstitious nor barbaric," the Commodore snarled, trying to mask his desperation with annoyance. "Give the man his alcohol if he needs it." He paused. "And I may need to speak with the prisoner at some point. What procedures are there for me to have a talk with him?"

"I suppose nobody would refuse _you_, sir, as long as you were accompanied by half a dozen guards for safety's sake."

At that moment there was a soft knock at the door. Norrington walked over and, expecting yet _another_ group of annoying subordinates, yanked it open rudely. "Yes?"

*************

Elizabeth froze. "Commodore?"

Instantly softening, he took off his hat and stepped back to bow. "Miss Sw…Mrs. Turner," he corrected himself. "Good morning. I apologize - I was expecting someone else. Never mind. Come in."

She very nearly tripped over her feet as she attempted simultaneously to bid him good morning, step inside, and absorb the remarkable physical changes that had come over him since last she saw him.

As soon as she was seated, she couldn't help reaching over his desk to touch his lip softly. "What happened?"

_I deliberately smashed myself against the wheel._ Norrington shrugged and smiled. "It's nothing. Something the pirates gave me to remember them by."

Her eyes narrowed. "And on your brow?"

_Gibbs offered me three gold pieces to be allowed to do that_. "The same. Don't worry about me, it's only a flesh wound."

Something in his face gave him away, though, and she smiled wryly. "You poor thing…and I suppose that dark skin came from…being staked to the deck in the baking sun all day and trod on like a carpet?" Her tone was all innocence.

"Precisely."

"Poor man. I sympathize - the things I witnessed on that ship...I'll never forget it as long as I live."

"Mmm," Norrington agreed absently. He was suddenly absorbed in a brilliant new idea. "Mrs. Turner…considering your…familiarity with Jack Sparrow, I think we might as well get you on the record saying you identify him by face. I've heard some people complaining that they don't believe the man we have really _is_ Jack Sparrow at all, but they'd never doubt the word of a lady. If you don't mind…?"

"Oh, of course," she agreed instantly. "Only tell me how I can…be of service…and I'll be glad to help."

Clearly she understood the game. "Well, for starters you can take out any hatpins you might be wearing - Sparrow can use them as lock picks if he somehow gets ahold of them."

"Of course." She rose and dipped a curtsy. "I must go back home and change my dress, as it will probably get dirty if I go inside the prison."

"Certainly. I shall wait for you right here."

He couldn't help wondering whether she still swayed when she walked, but he did manage not to look.

******************

TBC (soon.) See? I'm being good, updating regularly again...please, pretty please, review for me? Are ya still reading?  



	20. ch20

Not two minutes later there was a knock at the door.  "Elizabeth already?  Impossible," Norrington muttered as he answered it.

It was two soldiers, disheveled and excited, each interrupting and shouting over the other so that it was totally impossible to make out what was said.

"Enough!  Stop!  One at a time," Norrington snarled.

"I said, sir, we caught them!  All of them!"

His breath caught.  "All of whom?"

"All Sparrow's crew, sir!  They were under the command of a lady pirate, Commodore, and on a different ship, but they said Sparrow's name more than once and we _know_ it's them."

Norrington swallowed and kept a perfect poker face.  "Excellent work, gentlemen.  Bring them all in here, please.  We might as well have a look at what you've caught."

This _had_ to be a nightmare.  Ana Maria should have sailed _away, not closer!  He watched as she and her half of the crew were brought in, tied well and with guns trained on them from every direction.  Then, to add to the distractions and chaos, Elizabeth opened the door softly, accompanied by her father (whose wig had grown to epic proportions, worse than anything Norrington could ever have imagined.)_

"Well, isn't this a nice little party," Norrington said irritably.  "Someone go and fetch Sparrow here too, to save Mrs. Turner a trip down into the dungeons."

"An excellent idea, Commodore," the governor said warmly.  "I actually came expressly to question the wisdom of bringing Elizabeth down into the damp, in her...delicate condition, but this solves the problem."

Delicate condition?  Norrington glanced at her for an explanation, and she laid a hand on her stomach gently.  Aha.

!?!?!

Norrington almost laughed.  A delicate condition!  How perfect!  How could he have forgotten up til now?  This was excellent – another way to throw a monkey wrench into the authorities' plans for hanging the pirates.  Good, good, good.

"Order, order!"  He waited until things had quieted down.  "If I may, ladies and gentlemen.  Please."  He could feel Ana Maria's eyes on him, confused and accusing, but he gestured towards her anyway and pressed on.  "I suggest that we hang the others as soon as possible, but of course we cannot possibly hang _her_."

"Excuse me?"  Governor Swann interrupted.  "Did you say, _can't hang her_?  Why in Heaven's name not?"

Norrington waited, but Ana Maria remained stubbornly silent so he had to prompt a bit more.  "Tell them, if you please, Captain."

"Not a captain any more - those buggers sank my ship."

She _still_ didn't intend to confess?  Norrington walked up to her and whispered, "You cannot do this – the secret you are keeping will cost _lives_.  In the plural.  You have a responsibility now, and while you may wish to throw away your own life, I will not allow you to throw away the lives of others."

Ana Maria scowled at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes and sighed.  "Fine."  She snapped to the room at large, "You can't hang me because I'm with child."

A minor uproar broke out, everybody whispering and deliberating and exclaiming, but Norrington was totally oblivious.

His attention was glued to the door, where two soldiers carrying between them a pinioned prisoner had suddenly materialized just in time to hear Ana Maria's declaration.

Norrington was surprised at the jealousy that rippled through him as Jack locked eyes with her, excluding the Commodore and everybody else in the room.  He saw Jack's lips move and deciphered the words, "Ana, darling, why didn't you tell me?" even though the room was far too noisy for him to have heard.

At last the governor called for an end to the chaos, and Norrington forced himself to pay attention to what he was saying.  "I don't see what the fuss is.  Honestly!  She's probably lying."  Swann smiled conspiratorially all around the room.  "Why, I'm sure that if we have a doctor examine her right now, he will tell us that she is no more with child than I am."

"You filthy liar!"  Ana Maria began struggling against the men who held her.

Swann looked satisfied.  "There – you see?  Is that in any way the behavior of a mother?  Of course not.  Rest your consciences, gentlemen."

_The hell I will_, Norrington thought.  "Sir, may I have a word in private?"

The governor reluctantly agreed, and Norrington took him aside to whisper, "I believe that she is telling the truth."

"Well, what of it?  I tell you there's a doctor who will find exactly what we tell him to find.  I intend to rid these waters of pirates and I am _not_ going to sit by and allow this pirate to escape simply because she is in the process of producing another one!"

Norrington didn't look away.  "What you are proposing, _sir_, is the murder of an unborn child."

"Now, now.  None of that.  What I'm proposing is taking care of this pirate and her pirateling while we have the chance - not waiting around until it grows old enough to loot a ship of its own."

Clearly honesty would get him nowhere.  Norrington remembered the day Jack had explained, _I have a very peculiar relationship with the truth, mate,_ and decided that perhaps he'd have to cultivate such a relationship himself now.  "Governor, I am not certain that the child is a pirate," he said finally.

Swann chuckled.  "What else could it be, spawned and raised on a pirate ship by two pirate parents?"

"_One_ pirate parent," Norrington corrected.  "The father could be anybody."

"Anybody on _her pirate ship_, you mean.  Therefore, any _pirate_.  Therefore-"

"Pirates weren't the only men aboard the _Black Pearl_," the Commodore hissed.  "There were also...well...prisoners."

"Prisoners?"  Suddenly something clicked into place and Swann gasped.  "Commodore!  You're not suggesting that-"

"I am suggesting that there may be a slight possibility," Norrington admitted.  "And while there is even the smallest chance that the child is mine, I cannot allow the mother to be hanged until she has delivered it.  May I have your promise, sir?"

The governor put his hands to his head.  "Why, _why_ do you complicate matters so?  All right, all right - we won't hang her yet.  Satisfied?"  He turned back to the rest of the room.  "Gentlemen, I have changed my mind.  This pirate, because she may indeed be with child, will be taken to a separate cell and kept there until...until the situation becomes clearer.  Get her out of here."

_There's one saved for the moment_, Norrington thought with satisfaction as she was led away.  Now it remained to see what Elizabeth could do for Jack…

********************

TBC (soon).   Yay, people are still reading!  I know this development might have been a bit obvious, but it was either that or have it come out of nowhere.  *shrug*.  What do you think so far?  Let me know let me know!


	21. ch21

"Well?  Mrs. Turner, is that or is that not the pirate known as Jack Sparrow?"  Norrington demanded.

Elizabeth looked him over.  "It is," she answered, but her eyes never left Jack's.  "I just hope you've searched him well, gentlemen, because tied up or not, I'm sure he could find a way to escape."

"Oh, we searched him, ma'am," one of the soldiers assured her.  "Very, very well."

"Did you?"  she asked politely, while Norrington prayed that nobody else could see the strange intensity in her eyes.  "Because I've been told that these pirates are very resourceful…that they can hide lock picks in the most…_unlikely_ places."

She'd put a very strange emphasis on the word, and Jack suddenly seemed a bit more alert.  "She's right, you know," the pirate said with his most theatrical deadpan.  "There've been times when I've hidden…oh, I don't know…_a rudder and a lot of sails _right on my person."  He studied her with narrowed eyes.

Elizabeth smiled.  "Precisely."  

Jack swallowed convulsively.  "Um.  Elizabeth.  Darling, if I'm really to be hanged, could I possibly beg one last favor of you?"  She nodded, ignoring the disapproving huffs that came from all corners of the room.  "Well, it's only that...as you heard, my woman is apparently...well, I...I'm going to be a father, and as I won't ever get a chance to...to see the poor little thing, I wondered if I might give you a few words you could pass on to Ana Maria for me?"  He turned to the soldier next to him.  "It's delicate stuff, mate.  Womanly things.  If you wouldn't mind stuffing up your ears for a bit...?"

Elizabeth turned to Norrington.  "Well?  Commodore, do you think it's safe for me to approach?"

"Well, I don't see why not - he's tied to high heaven.  Gentlemen, please step back to give Mr. Sparrow a bit of privacy so that he can reveal his _secrets_."  Norrington's tone was condescending and amused, and the soldiers obeyed with a little chuckle.  As Elizabeth approached the prisoner, her back to the rest of the room, Norrington called for everyone's attention and began giving various wordy and obscure orders.  

When Elizabeth finally stepped away, both she and Jack looked satisfied.

The Commodore very carefully did _not_ breathe a sigh of relief.

*********************

TBC

I'm going away for the weekend, but the next bit will be up soon after I get back.  Review for me, ok?  Sorry this bit was so short, but I wanted to post what I had before I left, so as not to leave anybody hanging for too long.


	22. ch22

There was a large-scale fiasco and all-out emergency in the jail that night, but Ana Maria and Elizabeth both missed it all.

They were locked in a room together in the governor's house, with a midwife of dubious credentials, guarded by armed soldiers standing just outside the door.  The men were forbidden to enter in and watch "indecent" female procedures, but couldn't help overhearing the heated arguments that carried easily through the walls…

******

The midwife had been silenced almost immediately and sat cowering in a corner, but Elizabeth and Ana Maria were still at it.  "How far along are you?"

"What?"

Elizabeth sighed and tried again.  "How many months have you been carrying the child?"

"How should I know?"  Ana Maria's suspicious, snappy attitude made Elizabeth lose patience and throw delicacy out the window.

"Well, when did it happen?  Think back to the last time you got drunk and let Jack into your cabin at night!"

"The last time?  Saturday."  She paused.  "But I expect he cursed me with this about five months ago.  Maybe more."

"So you've about four more months to go.  I've got three.  Lately I've found that if I'm out of sorts, it always helps to drink some of this."  She held out a glass filled with some lumpy, foul-looking concoction and tried to entice the pirate to drink it.

"What the devil is that supposed to be?"

"Medicine."

"I know poisons that look more appetizing."

Elizabeth heaved a sigh and tried to think of further argument, but her patient forestalled it by shattering the glass against the wall.       "I still can't believe I'm here.  I can't believe you've done this to me, missie," Ana Maria growled.  "After all the trouble Jack went to on your behalf…"

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.  "Trouble?  Trouble he went to?  Trouble he caused me, more like."  She tossed her hair proudly.  "Anyway, done _what to you exactly?  You're carrying a child, Captain, and if you try and deliver it at sea it'll almost certainly end in tragedy.  You must stay here until the baby is born, and then-"_

"Stay _here_?  On land?  For a whole season?  Leave the _Pearl?"  The pirate struggled to her feet.  "Are you mad?"_

"_Sit down_!"  Elizabeth stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face.  "You disobedient little thing, if you keep running about and throwing tantrums you'll risk harm to Jack's child, and I will _not_ allow that.  If you're going to act like an infant, you're going to be treated like one.  Sit down, before…before I spank you."

Ana Maria was shocked into obeying, but after a moment she got her wits about her again and reached uselessly into her bodice.  "Spank me?  Damn you!  If I still had my dagger you'd be sorry you-"

"Well, you don't."  Elizabeth deliberately turned her back and made her way to the medicine box.  "I've dealt with pirates much more fearsome than yourself and I'm not afraid of you.  One more word and I shall have you gagged.  Now, I am making another batch of medicine and you _will_ drink it."  She looked over her shoulder and met Ana Maria's furious gaze.  "Honestly, it will settle your indigestion.  Trust me?"  Her voice was gentle now, and her hand dropped unthinkingly to cradle her belly.  "Come on, really – I'm on _your_ side, you know, and if you won't cooperate with me they'll get someone else big and scary to watch over you instead.  And you don't want that, do you?"

Ana Maria was silent and sullen, but didn't appear ready to fight any more, so Elizabeth gave her the medicine.

And then retreated several feet to make sure that she was out of reach, just in case.

********************

TBC.  You know the drill, review for me.

Forgive any typos in this bit, I know I've been taking long recently so I'm trying to step up the pace.  I feel kind of weird not having chewed this chapter over as many billions of times as I usually do…


	23. ch23

            The governor decided to meddle in the security procedures until he was satisfied, but Norrington wanted to convince him that the only safe way to guard the prisoners was by locking the cell and then removing all soldiers from the corridors.  "Sir, if a guard becomes careless even for a moment, disaster could result!  They could trick him, overpower him, or-"

            "Come come, Commodore.  Be reasonable," Swann said sharply.  "We will compromise.  We will keep soldiers out of the corridors for the majority of the time, but every half-hour we'll send in a man to check that all is still well.  One man at a time.  He is to open a door at one end of the hall, and without approaching the cell, he is to check that the prisoners are still inside.  If the slightest thing seems amiss he is to lock the outer doors and call for help.  One soldier at a time.  I highly doubt anything will go wrong if we take these precautions.  You can even take the first shift yourself if you want."

***********************

            Norrington was sitting on a chair outside the door that led to The Corridor that contained The Cell wherein were housed The Prisoners….

            And he was at the end of his rope.

            "I could go in there and let them out right now," he muttered for the thousandth time to himself.  "But then everyone would know they'd escaped on _my_ watch and I'd be sunk for sure.  Court-martialed.  Perhaps even hanged…"

            "You could always hope Will Turner makes another appearance," said a voice from around the corner.  Norrington jumped up.

            "Jack?"

            But it was a soldier in full uniform who rounded the corner… at least, it was a soldier until he took off his hat and a foot of raggedy black hair tumbled out.

            "Jack!  Hell's bells, _what_ are you doing here?"

            "Shhhhh!"  Jack looked over his shoulder.  "I haven't been followed.  I picked my cuffs as soon as I left your office in the company of those two wonderful soldiers.  I knocked their heads together and took their clothes and cut the ropes off me and here I am!"  He bowed deeply.  "Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service."

            "Well, what next?  Do you know how this place is being guarded?"  Norrington glanced at his pocket-watch.  "In exactly nine minutes another guard will come to take my place, and he mustn't find you here!  Get out now."

            "Can't leave without my crew."  Jack leaned on the wall and crossed his arms.  "Have you got the key?"

            "Well, I...  Well…the problem is, if I let them out now, it will become known that they escaped on _my_ watch, and I'll be cooked.  More importantly, in nine minutes the next guard will get here and he'll raise the alarm and with so little of a head start, you'll definitely be caught."

            Jack thought for a moment, then drew a pistol.  "There – now I'm talking to you at gunpoint.  You don't have to worry about a court-martial.  Objection number two?"

            "The time, Jack.  Eight minutes isn't enough to get away.  The next guard will-"

            "Who is he?"

            "The guard?  How the devil should I know?  It's a bloody new recruit, none of the old soldiers would agree to guard you, not if we offered them triple pay and a full month off afterwards!"

            "New – how new?"

            "I don't know.  I wasn't here when he came, I don't think I've spoken to him once in my entire life."

            Jack's eyes lit up.  "Right, then.  Seven minutes.  Take me to my crew."

**************************************

            Johannes was brand-new to Port Royal and was still learning the ways of the navy, but he knew enough to salute when the illustrious Commodore Norrington, the man famous for having been willing to sacrifice all for duty, walked by.  "Good evening, Commodore, sir," he said tentatively.

            The Commodore looked at him and smiled warmly.  "Evening, boy.  Remember not to get too close to the cage – those pirates in there will tear you apart, hear?"

            "Yes, sir."

            "Good."  Apparently the Commodore shared Johannes's lack of comfort with all the rigid military posturing, because he made a gesture of distaste, cleared his throat, and added, "At ease, soldier."

            "Aye, sir.  Good evening."

            And then the Commodore was gone, and Johannes was berating himself for not even having been able to really look him in the face.

 **********

            Torn between walking on air and kicking himself, Johannes clanked open the heavy door that kept The Corridor separate from the guard's station.

            It was so dim he could barely make out the lumpy outlines resting against the walls and floor of the cell.

            "Hello there?  You, pirates!"  The guard banged his gun on the floor at the far end of the corridor.

            One pirate rose from the dirty heap.  "Keep it down there, you," he hissed, his voice coarse and grouchy.  "Can't ye see they're getting some sleep?"

            The soldier laughed.  "What are you, their mother?"

            "Me, I'm keeping watch."  The pirate drew himself up proudly and whispered loudly, "To keep them from bein' disturbed by the likes o' you."  After a moment he added sheepishly, "No disrespect intended, officer sir, but they do need their rest."

            After rolling his eyes a bit at the pirate's presumption, Johannes checked once more that the cell was still full – sleeping or not, he counted about enough bodies to reassure himself – and stepped out, slamming the door behind him.

**********

            And as soon as he had gone, the "pirate" overturned one of his sleeping "comrades."

            It was a bundle of old clothes stuffed with straw, and underneath was a neatly folded Navy uniform and a meticulously-starched wig….

***********************************

TBC…

Sorry I took so long.  R/R and I'll post again in like a week.


	24. ch24

Governor Swann sat at his desk in such rare high spirits that he was actually _singing_ under his breath. "Swing high, me hearties, yo ho… yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." He was grinning from ear to ear. "Just think – no more pirates. No more cursed ship and its cursed crew. All gone and done f-" He stopped when the door to his office burst open and a guard rushed in.

Swann jumped to his feet. "Excuse me, you!" he addressed the intruder, who was sputtering breathlessly. "If you need to see me you can knock or-"

"Sir, it's the pirates! They've escaped! I've raised the alarm, sir, and I haven't touched anything at the scene so you can see exactly how I found the place."

The Governor hovered uncertainly. "Summon my personal protection immediately. No – wait – I'll go _with _you. If there are a lot of filthy pirates loose in here I ought to be careful."

* * *

The corridor that should have been empty save for a cell of unwashed pirates was now crowded with soldiers. "There you are!" someone exclaimed. "Governor, sir, we've been waiting for you! See – look here. This is how he was found."

"He? He who?" Swann shoved his way through until he stood not three feet from the bars and looked down.

The pirates were gone…but the cell wasn't quite empty. It still contained Commodore Norrington, who sat on the floor against the bars, his hands cuffed through them so that he couldn't even rise to his feet.

Swann stared. "Well…good heavens, let's untie him, shall we?" he snapped finally. The soldiers jumped to obey.

The moment Norrington's cuffs were off he jumped to his feet, tore off the bandana that had been tied around his mouth, and spat out a mouthful of straw. "Sparrow," he gasped immediately. "Sparrow must have got loose, he came to me _armed_ for God's sake – who was supposed to be keeping him under guard? Well? Who?"

The soldiers looked at each other dumbly.

"Well?" Norrington pressed.

Governor Swann tried to press the shaking from his voice. "So where is he now?"

"Now?" Norrington whirled on him. "How the devil should I know? I've been sitting there tied for nearly an hour…_where_ was the next guard who was supposed to take a watch? Why did nobody come in and find me?"

A timid-looking soldier stepped up. "I did, sir," he said weakly. "I came in, I swear I did, but the pirates were still there and…and you weren't there…I don't understand, sir, I _swear_ I came to check on them…"

Norrington looked him over with disgust. "Who _is_ this boy?"

One of the older guards snorted. "Johannes doesn't talk much," he offered. "The boy's new…none of us could really vouch for his character, Commodore."

Norrington nodded. "Of course. A spy, it must be. How much did Sparrow pay you for this? It had better be an awful lot – this trick has just cost you your life, boy."

The young soldier was struck speechless, and Governor Swann decided it was safe to step in. "Well, now that we've got that all sorted out, why don't we take him away? Put him in with that other young pirate we caught the day Commodore Norrington came home." He turned to Norrington. "And you, Commodore…why don't you help me catch those pirates?"

They stalked out of the dungeons side by side, wringing their hands. Norrington was trying to massage blood back into his. Swann was just nervous.

* * *

Norrington knew full well that they would be too late to stop Sparrow from escaping. The _Hellfire _had been caught but the _Pearl_floated outside the harbor, waiting with the rest of the crew, and all they had to do was somehow get out to her and they'd be home free. There were plenty of ships at the dock being guarded by only a man or two, and anyway he'd given the pirates the key to where their weapons had been stored. It occurred to him only afterward that he might be getting some innocent people killed for Jack's sake.

Anyway, he had to hurry. He had to make a convincing attempt to catch them in order to keep his own self out of trouble. Suddenly Norrington froze in his tracks, remembering Johannes and Charles Foster, the two young men who might well hang for what he'd done. He'd have to free them. But how? What would Jack do?

_Jack would almost certainly take his own crew and skedaddle_, Norrington thought wryly, _but that's hardly fair, now, is it?_ Cursing himself for having a conscience, Norrington waited until the Governor was distracted and then slipped off down a different corridor.

It only took a moment to free the two young men. Norrington dragged them out into the hallway and gave them their instructions: "The pirates came by and let you out, do you understand? They like disorder and didn't want to see criminals hang. You attacked them, both of you, tried for all you're worth to subdue them and prevent them from getting away. You were both knocked unconscious. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Johannes spoke up confidently. "As long as we're all on the same page, sir, it shouldn't be too hard to clear up any…er…misunderstandings the Governor might have about what actually happened."

"That's a good lad," Norrington said approvingly. "You'll go far here. And you?"

"I've given up on justice and now I only want to escape this mess alive," Foster answered sullenly. "If it means lying for you, then I'll lie. How will you explain what happened on the beach when we landed?"

"Everyone was overwrought, nobody said what he meant, it was all an accident and a misunderstanding and I'm sure the Governor will understa-" Norrington cut himself short by swinging the butt of his gun up and smashing his audience on the temple. Charles Foster crumpled. Next Norrington turned to Johannes, asked "Ready?" and then, without waiting for an answer, clubbed him to sleep.

* * *

Whew, finally! Only one more chapter, everybody. And it's all done, mostly edited, totally ready to go up with another hour or so of work. So basically now is your last chance to review and tell me what you think before I finish the story! Thanks so much for reading and thanks for all the encouragement and I'm sorry for such a random long delay before this update. I assure you it won't happen again.


	25. ch25

NOTE: this is the SECOND update in the last few days, so if you haven't checked out the story in a while, read chapter 24 first and then this one. This, by the way, is the Last Chapter.

* * *

The other pirates had all hit the water and were swimming...yes, _swimming_ out to sea, presumably to meet the Pearl. Jack stood waiting, poised to dive, as Norrington ran up alone.

"Where's Ana Maria?"

Running at top speed and with a bit of a head start had given Norrington a few minutes' lead over the other soldiers. "Guards...right...behind me," he panted. "She can't...make it...today. Go. You must...understand th-"

"I understand that I'm not leaving this miserable port without her," Jack interrupted softly, with his most relaxed and winning smile. "I'll not abandon my woman and her child."

Norrington tried again. "Let her have the child here – it's only a few more months and it's much safer. She might not survive the birth at sea."

"My Ana Maria will survive anything," Jack said with confidence. He seemed about to continue, but shouts and gunshots in the distance changed his mind.

Norrington turned and saw uniforms, several of them, running closer with weapons drawn. "She will _not_ survive seeing her lover hang! And you _will_ hang if you're caught, Jack, so please, go now! I swear I'll keep her safe for you!"

Jack glanced once at the soldiers and seemed to waver. "Safe?"

"I'll bloody bring her to Tortuga for you! Her _and_ the child! Please, Jack, save yourself. A child needs a father. Trust me – I know."

Jack blinked and let out a ragged breath. "Norrington..."

"Trust me." Norrington knew by now he'd won. "Uncle Bloody will see the whelp safely to Tortuga as soon as it's born. You have my word."

Jack drew his pistol and pointed it at his friend. "Hands up." He backed up a few paces and dove into the water.

Norrington threw down his own weapon and raised his hands. He'd had the foresight to empty it beforehand, and as soldiers surrounded him to make sure he was all right, he started spouting off his prepared story. "I fired every damned shot I had and missed by a hair every time! That man has the devil's own luck..."

By now the pirate captain was well outside of shooting range. The soldiers stood together helplessly and watched him swim off into the mist with firm, even strokes.

* * *

"I've never known you to miss a shot, sir," Gilette said timidly that night in the office, staring out at the ocean. "Especially not when you're shooting at pirates."

Norrington joined him by the window. "It saddens me," he answered, "that after all these years you don't feel that you can be honest with me. Why don't you tell me what is _really _on your mind."

Gilette turned to face him but didn't achieve eye contact. "Commodore...I can't help but suspect that...that you let Sparrow go...on purpose, sir. And, assuming that it true, sir, I can't help but...well, wonder whether your...loyalties and...and affections have...well, changed, sir. Forgive me."

Norrington nodded, glad to have it out in the open. _This conversation had to come,_ he thought grimly. _Better now than later. I have an explanation ready for him, and I'll need his help._

"Gilette," he began calmly, "Do you know what sort of atrocities take place on a pirate ship? Do you?"

Gilette gulped. "I've heard, sir." He proceeded cautiously. "Prisoners beaten...tortured...and then sometimes...er..._unmanned_ by crews too long at sea." He blushed.

Norrington stared, mouth wide open, and finally sputtered, "Is _that_ what you thought? Good God!" He let out a bark of laughter and then bit his lip, trying for seriousness. "Please, Gilette. I will only say this once so listen carefully: I give you my word that Jack Sparrow and I did _not_ become lovers. Really and truly." He met his subordinate's eyes unwaveringly and began to explain:

"There _were_ atrocities out at sea, and Jack protected me from all of it. He saw to it that I was treated well, saved my life more than once, and taught me more about captaining a ship than I learned in half a year as first mate in the Navy. He strikes me as a good man in a doubtful occupation, and more importantly at the moment, he strikes me as a father-to-be. For those reasons, yes, I allowed his escape today." Norrington waited a moment, then demanded suddenly, "Now tell me how you feel about hanging women."

"Please don't think I mean this in a rebellious or insubordinate manner, sir," Gilette answered. "I would never criticize the Governor. But as to hanging women...I think it's despicable."

"Excellent! I knew I could count on you!" Norrington beamed.

"Count on me, sir?"

Norrington just brazened it out. The tactic always worked for Jack, didn't it? "To help free her, of course! I don't like the idea of watching a woman – a mother, no less – choke to death before my very eyes. I doubt you do either, so I propose we plan to liberate the captive pirate and her child. And _then_, Gilette, _then_ I will settle down and be Commodore like I always was, having repaid my debts and pledged my loyalty anew to the Crown. What say you to that?" he finished energetically, and waited with a huge smile pasted to his face. He was terrified.

But Gilette nodded emphatically, stars in his eyes. "Aye, sir. Just as you say."

"Wonderful." Norrington tried to ignore the disturbingly-satisfying feeling of being worshipped and keep his mind on the job ahead. Tonight, he still had to break the news to Ana Maria of several months' impending imprisonment.

He fully expected a happy ending for her, but he also (correctly) expected at least one black eye and perhaps a missing tooth for his pains.

* * *

And meanwhile, Jack Sparrow stood on deck staring out at the horizon, muttering, "Uncle Bloody Norrington" from time to time with a wry smile.

* * *

THE END.

Of course there are a million and one adventures that take place afterwards. But I kind of like leaving it open-ended. What do you think?

Thanks so much for reading this story and being so patient. If you haven't already, please drop a review and tell me how you liked it.


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